


Thine Enemy is Sweet

by XxTheDarkLordxX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anger, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco, Draco Owns a Strip Club, Enemies Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Epic Friendship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Harry Teaches Muggleborns, Harry has a praise kink, Humor, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Praise Kink, Teacher Harry Potter, Teasing, Topping from the Bottom, Two Scorned Lovers Plot Together, Unresolved Sexual Tension, flangst, odd jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTheDarkLordxX/pseuds/XxTheDarkLordxX
Summary: "The ex-boyfriend of my ex-fiance is my partner in crime."A story featuring a ragtag team of morons, bickering enemies that can't agree on anything, a heist that surely won't end well and a connection that neither Harry or Draco can deny.





	1. Bare Sorcery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! It's been awhile, hasn't it? Writing for me lately seemed like a chore and not something I enjoyed doing. Partially because I have no energy and depression is a bitch. But I got the inspiration for this and so far I have really enjoyed doing it. 
> 
> I can't thank Tempe and Gigi enough for all they have done. Gigi, for being the amazing beta that she is and being a cheerleader when I needed one the most. Tempe for her insanely gifted mind, her wonderful ideas and her cheerleading as well. 
> 
> |Warning| I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. All rights to the characters are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. The only thing is mine is the way I spin the story. It is for entertainment only and not a part of the official storyline.

Harry was a few shots away from being drunk when he heard the news, and it was honestly for the better. **  
**

“What do you mean he’s getting married?” He slurred as he fought dizziness when he tried to stand upright.  _“He can’t.”_

“Harry.” The sigh was sad, and he didn’t want that. He hated being sad and hated when others were sad—he never did figure out how to comfort people properly.

“Isn’t it time you got over him? It’s been a year. You can’t  _still_  be sad.”

“I’m not sad!” Harry tried to slam the table in emphasis but missed and toppled over on top of Ginny. “Really,” he said louder than intended when she sighed again. He would’ve moved but she was warm and comfy.

“Then what are you if you aren’t sad?”

“I’m angry.”

Not just angry, but _furious_. Fuck Theodore Nott and the small dick he rode in on.

“He doesn’t just get to move on with his life after what he did. That’s  _not_  fair.”

When Ginny sighed a third time, it was accompanied with fingers in his hair, which was an improvement.

“Maybe you need to move on too. Find someone else, someone nice.”

“Fuck that. Who needs the complication?”

“Don’t let Nott discourage you from finding love.”

“Love is a waste of time.”

“Not when you find the right person.”

Harry snorted, at least he tried to, sounded more like snot coming out than anything.

“You only say that because you are happily married.”

She didn’t respond, and Harry knew it was because she didn’t know what to say. There was a time when he thought he’d marry Ginny, and then there was a time when he almost married Theo.

Fuck marriage, fuck love.

“How did you find out?”

“It was in the papers. They’re both a part of the sacred 28, it was bound to be in the Prophet.”

“Let me see.”

“Harry, I don’t think—”

_“Let me see.”_

The more she sighed, the more he wondered if it was a personality trait. The sound of paper crinkling distracted him from the urge to down another shot.

When the paper was shoved in his face, his hands clenched on instinct seeing Theo’s face. Merlin, he hated him.

“Wait,” Harry squinted at the paper. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Who Astoria?” Ginny asked as she tried to peer at the paper too. “I didn’t know they were dating, but I never followed his life either.”

“No, forget her. The ring.”

Harry ran his fingers over the page and felt his magic tingle just enough to enlarge the image.

“That’s my ring on her too polished fingers.”

“What? Harry—”

“I bought him that ring when we were engaged. The prick didn’t have the decency to give it back to me, but he can propose to someone else with it. Bloody tacky if you ask me.”

Harry pushed away from the table harshly and watched Ginny dive to catch his teetering shot glass.

“Fuck that,” he shook his head too hard and a headache started to form. “You know what? Fuck him, fuck her, fuck their engagement, and fuck this bullshit. I’m getting the ring back.”

“Harry!” Ginny called after him when he turned away. “Wait!” She placed a hand on his shoulder and held him in place.

“What are you planning?”

“That’s my ring and I’m getting it back.”

Ginny scoffed, and he hated that it reminded him of Ron. Ron would have supported him if he wasn’t busy with date night. God, married people were sickening.

“How do you plan on doing that? Just march up to Astoria’s flat and demand it?”

“Don’t be daft,” Harry turned around too quickly, and she had to steady him. “I’m going to go to the party.”

“What—”

He pointed to the paper where Theo’s stupid fake smile was on the front page. “He’s having an engagement party next week and I’m going to crash it.”

Ginny crossed her arms as her forehead wrinkled, and he kind of wanted to smooth it out.

“How do you plan on doing that? It’s not just a typical party. Due to the type of marriage it is, only the sacred 28 will be invited.”

Harry slumped down on what he thought was a nearby chair, but it was really nothing. An ‘oof’ left him as he fell on his arse and his back hit the legs of the table. No glasses fell, but the newspaper did.  

“Wait, aren’t you a part of that?”

The harsh snort she let out wasn’t attractive, and he was going to tell her just that when his eyes landed on the paper. The pages were out of order but what caught his attention was a fluff piece written about the charity work Lucius Malfoy did after his too short Azkaban sentence—as if charity work would ever clear his name. The photo the newspaper used was a family portrait, and his eyes traced over a particular Malfoy.

“Malfoy,” Harry mumbled as he attempted to grab the article, but his arms weren’t long enough. Perhaps he drank a bit too much.

“Malfoy?” Ginny asked as she crouched down in front of him. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

Harry liked to think he was good, great even. He helped people when he could, overworked himself if it meant others weren’t burdened, and rarely complained about his lot in life. But as he looked between the crumpled front page of the Daily Prophet and the article on the Malfoys, he was  _tired_  of being nice,  _tired_ of being good. He wanted to be petty, wanted to be spiteful.

And he knew just who could help him.

“Everything,” Harry said with a twisted smile that felt weird on his lips. “He has  _everything_ to do with it.”

No matter how much Harry hated Theodore Nott, no one hated him as much as Malfoy.

“The enemy of my enemy,” he mumbled.

Theo couldn’t handle two scorned lovers very well, could he?

 

* * *

 

 

Harry stood outside of  _Bare Sorcery_  with a frown. He had always told himself he’d never step foot in the place, no matter how praised or renowned it was. He didn’t care for the business much, but it was the owner he disliked even more.

“You can come in, we won’t bite.”

His head turned to watch a woman dressed in a black skin-tight leather bodysuit wink over her shoulder as she passed by and paused at the door.

“But you’re kind of cute, I might just break that rule.”

“Oh, erm.”

She held the door open for him, as if he needed to be coddled into the strip club.

It wasn’t until he followed her in that she yelled, “Ladies we got a shy one.”

A few employees came closer, and he wished they wouldn’t. He knew they didn’t open officially for another hour; shouldn’t they have better things to do?

“He’s cute,” A lady with bright pink hair and eyeliner thicker than his scar piped up with an exaggerated wink. “I call dibs.”

“No, thanks,” Harry said in a rush when it looked like she might move forward. “I’m here to see your boss.”

A few of them sighed and he couldn’t tell if it was in disappointment or not.

“He doesn’t dance for just anyone you know.”

“What?”

“Mister Draco only performs for  _certain_ men,” the first woman said as she eyed him with narrowed eyes. “You’re cute, but not  _that_ cute.”

Harry’s brows rose and he put a hand to his chest in mock offence. “That wounds me. It was my life dream to be attractive to you.”

“He’s got a mouth on him,” A woman said as her tongue poked out and her eyes gave him a slow once over. “Draco likes that.”

“Draco likes what?” The familiar drawl made Harry’s skin crawl and his nose to wrinkle in disgust. Merlin, he couldn’t stand Malfoy.

Malfoy had several boxes in his hands that he passed off to an employee behind the bar. There was a small smile on his face, and Harry didn’t like that either. It didn’t look right on his face. Surely smiling pulled muscles for him.

“Cute boys with a feisty mouth.”

When Malfoy looked over and their eyes locked, the smile disappeared, and his eyes hardened noticeably.

“I thought you said cute, not rubbish.”

“Oooo.” Several girls murmured. A few looked between them with slow smirks and Harry had to wonder if Malfoy only hired people like him.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.”

A gasp could be heard but he didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see them change their mind on his attractiveness now that they knew who he was.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Funny, when I said that to you two years ago, you slammed the door in my face and made your flat unplottable.”

Harry closed his eyes as the guilt welled up. He wasn’t sure he’d change anything even if he could, but he understood Malfoy’s anger. At least, marginally.

“I’m not here about that.”

“I imagine you aren’t. Looks like he passed you off for the next shiny new toy, huh? Karma is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

Harry deserved that, he did, but he couldn’t stop his fists from clenching on instinct. Part of him wanted to argue, to defend himself but there was no winning when it came to arguing with Malfoy, there never had been.

“I need your help.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Malfoy snarled, hand twitching towards the wand holder on his hip. “You come in here, to  _my_ business and want  _my_  help? That’s rich. The only thing I’ll ever help you with is burning your credibility.”

A low whistle reached his ears and Harry hated that they had an audience. No matter what he did there were  _always_  eyes on him, and he just wanted it to  _stop_.

“Would it help if I was sorry?”

“Not in the slightest.”

That was expected. The idea to get help from Malfoy was becoming less and less appealing.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Malfoy said as he took a deep breath. “I have a business to run and I have no time for this. Please let the door hit you on the way out. I hope it bloody hurts.”

Harry watched Malfoy walk away and he couldn’t let that happen, not when he couldn’t do it alone.

“I want revenge.”

Malfoy paused, back turned to Harry.

_“Pardon?”_

His eyes closed and his fingers fidgeted with the frayed edges of his sleeves.

“He proposed to her with the ring I bought him. I want it back.”

Silence followed and it was stifling. He could hear the breathing of the people around him and it made him uneasy.

When Malfoy faced him, there was a look in his eyes, one that Harry didn’t understand, but his expression was angry, and  _that_ Harry  _was_ familiar with.

“And what of me? What do I get out of it?”

Harry bit his lip, unsure what to say. He honestly hadn’t expected to get a foot inside, let alone a full conversation.

“I want my heart back,” Malfoy whispered, eyes narrowed and a nasty sneer in place. “The one that you helped shatter.”

Shuffling could be heard as someone muttered, ‘Awkward’ and the group of girls dispersed. It seemed they only cared for Malfoy’s privacy.

“You can’t blame me for that,” Harry said softly, not wanting anyone lingering to hear them.  

“The hell I can’t,” Malfoy argued as his hand stilled over his wand. Instinct had Harry itching to grab his, but he wouldn’t. Temper had no business in rational thoughts.

“Malfoy, I empathize with you,” Harry raised his hands in the air when Malfoy’s hands curled around the wand. “But _I_  wasn’t the one you were in a relationship with.  _I_  wasn’t the one who left.”

Malfoy’s shoulders tensed and his eyes were so angry that Harry was reminded of their youth, but worse. It was hatred, a hatred that he wasn’t sure he could ever combat.

“He left me for you, Potter.”

Harry closed his eyes and his heart sunk. He had always suspected that was what happened. It wasn’t as if Nott had ever owned up to it, but the timing of it all made sense, it fit his worries that he had buried under brief happiness.  

“So excuse me if I don’t give a flying fuck if you ever see your ring again,” Malfoy snarled. “As far as I’m concerned, you deserve it.”

“That’s not fair.”

A hollow laugh echoed around the room and it made him flinch. It was cold, just as cold as Malfoy’s eyes and it was uncomfortable.

“You’re preaching to the Wizengamot, Potter. Nothing ever is fair, is it? Glad to know that being the Boy-Who-Lived can’t even fix love. Evens the playing ground for the rest of us.”

The itch to hex Malfoy grew stronger but the smug grin was the only indicator that Malfoy  _wanted_ it.

“I’m not going to fight you.” And he wouldn’t, not now and not ever.

Malfoy took a step forward and no matter how badly Harry wanted to back up, he didn’t. He stood his ground. Courage through and through.

“I don’t like you,” Malfoy hissed inches from Harry’s face.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“You are the last person I ever wanted to see.”

“Also mutual,” mumbled Harry, the urge to step back came stronger when Malfoy’s eyes narrowed.

“You are an absolute tosser, a piece of rubbish not worth the bin I’d have to place you in, and I’d rather kill you then help you but not everyone gets what they want in life, right?”

“I—what?” Harry frowned when a barely-there smirk lifted at the corner of Malfoys lips.

“I’ll help you get your ring back, Potter, but my reasons are my own, you don’t get to know them, and we do it  _my_  way.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he stood up straighter. He didn’t want to jinx it and ask Malfoy if he was sure.

“Partially your way,” he corrected, trying not to wince when Malfoy arched a brow.

“Come again?”

“Well,” Harry lifted his collar and peered up at the ceiling. “You see, the engagement party is only for the sacred 28.”

Malfoy shrugged, face as uncaring as the rest of him. “I don’t see how that’s _my problem_.”

“I need you to get me in. As you so nicely pointed out, being the Boy-Who-Lived doesn’t get me everything I want.”

Malfoy frowned, and it was the first time Harry saw wrinkles form on his forehead. Good to know his skin wasn’t as flawless as it looked.

“I can’t get you in unless you—” Malfoy’s eyes widened before he shook his head vehemently. “No.”

“Yes.”

_“No,”_  Malfoy argued. “No way in hell.”

“It’s the only way.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Do you have another plan?”

“You can be the wait staff.”

“I will kill you. I have experience, Malfoy.”

The almost non-existent smirk came back, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t like Malfoy either.

“I need to be your date.”

“I’m not dating you. I’d have to be daft and moronic to even consider such an atrocity.”

“I do have feelings, you know,” Harry crossed his arms and glared.

“That’s a shame,” Malfoy murmured. “Not everyone has such a mortal flaw.”

“Mortal? What—” When the smirk returned, he realized Malfoy was taking the piss. “I really can’t stand you.”

The smirk widened and he had to remind himself that hexing Malfoy would not improve anything in the long run—even if it would feel good short term.

“No one has to  _know_ it wouldn’t be a real date,” Harry continued pointedly just to watch the smirk evaporate.

“Who takes a first time date to an engagement party?” Malfoy questioned with arched brows. “No one is going to buy that.”

“Then we can be in a long term relationship.”

The absolute horror on Malfoy’s face was insulting and it might have hurt his pride a smidgen.

“Do you know what this will do to my reputation?”

“Oi!” Harry cried. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m  _Harry Potter_!”

“My point exactly!” Malfoy accused with an accusing finger pointed dramatically at him.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered if he could really do it. Could he really suffer through the ordeal it would be to put up with Malfoy?

“Nott’s face when we walk in together though,” Malfoy said softly, almost questioningly and that’s when it came full circle for Harry. He  _could_ picture Nott’s face and Merlin it would be priceless.

Theodore Nott wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Alright,” Malfoy continued, and Harry started to smile for the first time since he left his flat. “I’ll let you be my fake boyfriend.”

The smile turned into pursed lips. “What do you mean  _let_ me?”

When Malfoy walked away without another word, Harry sighed loudly and with as much frustration as he could muster. It was going to be a long process, one that he wasn’t sure would be worth it. God forbid he have to deal with Malfoy for too long.

“You better spoil me, Potter,” Malfoy called over his shoulder, with a wink that threw him. “I deserve that, fake or not.”

Nevermind. Dealing with Malfoy was  _already_ too long.

When he let out another sigh and turned to leave, one of the girls from before said, “I told you that you weren’t cute enough.”

_Lovely._ Just lovely.

Malfoy’s laughter rang out, loud and with far too much humour—it was the only thing he could hear as it followed him out the door.

They could do it, right? Enemies fake dating? Surely, that had some precedence. 

What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not many of you may know this, but I actually don't like reading/writing fake dating Aus. It's not a trope that I enjoy, at all. But I had been scrolling on Tumblr and saw someone say their favorite fics are enemies fake dating and I got to thinking. How would that work? I've never read anything like that. So I pondered for a bit. Asked my friends Tempe, Gigi and Jess how that would work. They gave me such drastically different answers lmao and I was able to pull stuff from each of their advice and thus this story was created.
> 
> If you follow me on Tumblr, you'll already be familiar with this. I have been releasing the story in parts over there because it's stress-free. I can put out 1k-2k words in a 'part' and then come back to add more in a new part. With Ao3, I always feel like I can't do short chapters, it's not my thing and it never has been. So I waited until I had at least two parts there and then combined them here. The story will be updated on Ao3 when I get another group of parts. I've been trying to do one part every other day, but we shall see how well that goes. Been good with it for the first 3, so that's a good sign.
> 
> This trope might be your favorite, or it might be a new take on a classic or perhaps you are like me and don't fancy the trope that much but stuck around anyway. Either way, Thank you for giving it a shot! I appreciate it and I do hope you have enjoyed it!
> 
> Side note, please tell me you laughed at Bare Sorcery too. I can't be the only one. Whew, I crack myself up.
> 
> Let me know any thoughts. I'll see you for the next update. If you really don't want to wait, you can see the short update that was posted on [My Tumblr](https://xx-thedarklord-xx.tumblr.com/) today :P


	2. Subtle Idiocy

The usual bustling noises and loud chatter of the  _Three Broomsticks_  was absent as Harry looked around the room—and he preferred it that way, crowds would never be in his comfort zone.

“It’s lucky I was able to meet up today,” Seamus said as he downed whatever was in his flask. Harry liked to think it was Firewhisky, but Seamus refused to say. “Been real busy.”

“Busy doing what?” Ron said with a snort. “You’re still reserve, aren’t you? You sit on your arse all day.”

Seamus lifted his chin in the air in a snub. “I’ll have you know that I still have to show up for practices.”

“How are the Tornadoes doing?” Harry asked when Ron looked like he wanted to say something else.

“Lousy,” Seamus slumped in his seat. “I keep waiting for one of them to take a bludger to the head so I can get a shot this season, but I doubt it’ll happen. They may be rubbish but they know how to dodge.”

“You’ll get your chance,” Dean said, tone kind but not condescending. “You made it this far.”

“Enough about me, we’re here for you.”

Dean rubbed the side of his face as he looked down at the table. “It’s nothing. Just a sale.”

“Not  _just_ a sale,” Harry frowned before nudging Dean in the shoulder. “It’s a sale to the National Wizard Artistry Museum.”

“You got to stop doubting your artwork mate,” Ron said as he called for another round of drinks. “I buy your stuff all the time.”

“Yeah but you have rubbish taste.”

“Oi!” Ron cried as he tried to reach across the table to slap Dean. “See if I buy anything from you ever again.”

When Seamus and Ron began to tease again, Harry leaned forward to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Harry. That means a lot.” There was a small satisfied smile on Dean’s face. No matter how revered Dean’s work became, he’d always be humble, and Harry loved that about him.

“Here’s another round gentlemen,” Rosmerta placed the drinks down with a loud clunk, liquid spilling over the rim. “Next time Weasley get off your arse and order them and not shout it across the room.”

“I knew you liked seeing my pretty face,” Ron teased before Rosmerta sent a stinging hex his way with a grin.

“I like seeing your money, that’s about it.”

“You hurt my heart.”

When Rosmerta turned to Harry, he sat up straighter, worried he had done something to warrant a hex too.

“This came for you about an hour ago.” A folded crane was placed in his hands and Harry already knew who it would be from. “Not sure how they knew you were here, but no magic was inside, so it must be safe.”

Harry thanked her before tearing it open with little patience. 

_Potter,_

_I have cleared a small window of time today to go over the plan. I will meet you at 4 so I can assist you in apparation, my flat is not open to the public. I’m the one doing you the favour here, so be ready, no excuses._

_D.M_

Harry ignored the looks his friends gave him as he checked the time and then reread the letter. It was only a few minutes to 4.

“Shit, I have to go.”

“What?” Seamus narrowed his eyes. “We’ve only been here a little over an hour. Usually, you stay longer.”

“Sorry, I have to meet someone.”

“Like a date?” Dean asked as he leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Don’t be daft, Harry doesn’t know how to date.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry said as laughter broke out. He needed new friends. “Your confidence in me is overwhelming.”

Initially, he was going to come up with any excuse to leave but if he wanted it to be believable later on, might as well have a test subject.

“Actually,” Harry bit his lip. “It is a date.”

The laughter stopped and he was met with three surprised looks— _that_ hurt his pride.

“Oh, is it someone we—”

“Potter, it’s past 4, I’m not waiting any longer.”

Ron’s hand jerked so violently at the sound of Malfoy’s voice that his glass tipped over and the table became drenched.

_“What the fuck?”_  Seamus whispered as he looked between Harry and Malfoy.

“Just a minute,” Harry said as Malfoy leaned up against a nearby table.

“You’re lucky I have patience.”

Harry couldn’t help but snort. “Where, please tell me where this patience is? I’d like to see it.”

Malfoy’s lips twitched and Harry wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Dean, check to see if Harry’s been confunded,” Seamus whispered.

“Why me? Ron’s the healer.”

“He’s in shock, look at him.”

Ron was frozen in his seat, eyes on Malfoy, and Harry wasn’t sure he was blinking.

“If Harry was confunded, wouldn’t he be acting confused?”

“ _Why_ do you think I said it? He’d have to be confused to date Malfoy, right?”

“You know I can hear you, Finnigan, right?” Malfoy drawled, eyes on his nails as he crossed on ankle over the other.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he tried to appear serious. “Don’t be rude to my date.”

“Date,” Ron choked out and Harry  _really_ wanted to laugh.

“This is real, right?” Seamus shook his head slowly. “Or did I smoke Neville’s potion ingredients again?”

“I knew it!” The shout came from a few tables away as Neville rushed into his usual chair, bangs plastered to his forehead and a flush from overexertion on his face. “My supply was short that month, no way it was a slip-up. Stop smoking dangerous plants, you moron.”

Neville looked around the table in confusion when no one paid him any attention. “Sorry, I’m late. One of the delivery men tried to short-change me and I had to terminate the contract with his Apothecary.”

“What did I miss?” Neville asked when no one responded. His forehead was wrinkled, and he frowned at the wet table. “Ron, stop being messy, clean this up.”

“How do you know it was me?” Ron asked slowly as he came back to himself.

“It’s always you.”

“Harry has a date,” Dean said when Ron opened his mouth.  

Neville’s forehead smoothed before he smiled widely. “Oh! That’s great! Anyone we know?”

“Me, actually.”

Neville jumped in his seat and a tiny squeak escaped as he scrambled to look behind him.

_“Malfoy?”_

Malfoy bowed pretentiously like the git he had always been, and Harry hated that he was amused.

“The one and only.”

“Okay, I’m confused.”

“Dean make sure Neville isn’t confunded too.”

“You  _are_ aware that confusion isn’t the only symptom, Seamus, right?” Ron asked.

“I’m not the healer between us.”

_“Clearly.”_

“If you’ll excuse me,” Harry stood up slowly as he tried to avoid most of the spill. “Malfoy and I really should get going.”

“So this is real?” Neville asked, lips stretched into a strange grimace. “It’s a thing? A  _real_  thing?”

“You mean a date?” Malfoy said slowly, so slowly that Neville glared. “Unless you are implying something, Longbottom, and if that’s the case, please continue. I’m all ears.”

“Um.” Neville looked down at the table. “No, I wasn’t implying anything. Not at all.”

When Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, Neville rushed to say, “Enjoy your date.”

“I’ll be outside, Potter.” Malfoy turned around without a backward glance. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

As soon as he was gone Harry tried to follow but he was too slow, and Dean grabbed hold of his robes.

“Not so fast.”

“Look, I’m sure you have a few questions but—”

“A  _few_ ,” Ron’s voice raised an octave. “I have a lot more than a few.”

“And I’d love to answer them,” Harry lied, hands raised. “But I really should get going.”

“To your date,” Seamus said. “A date with Malfoy. Like where you’ll be  _alone_ with him.”

“Say it one more time and it might sink in,” Harry teased as he shrugged off Dean’s grasp. “I’ve got a date with Malfoy, yes.”

“I—” Ron placed a hand to his own forehead and Harry wondered if he was checking for a temperature. “You have a lot to explain.”

Oh boy. Ron already looked suspicious, and he couldn’t blame him.

“Another time,” Harry called over his shoulder as he jogged out of the pub. He wouldn’t put it past Malfoy to really leave without him.

_“Finally,”_ Malfoy complained the second Harry stepped outside. “Your friends are rude.”

Harry tilted his head and closed one eye. “Mmm, I don’t know if you are qualified to make that accusation.”

“Accusation?” Malfoy arched a brow as he extended his arm for Harry to hold onto. He didn’t want to accept it, not at all but he did it anyway. “Blatant observation.”

“Perhaps,” Harry conceded. “But can the guilty really call out others when their own hands are dirty?”

“It’s easier to spot what you know, Potter,” Malfoy argued. “I have never claimed to be nice; I shudder at the mere thought.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one. As I said, it’s just an observation.”

Frustrating. Malfoy was frustrating and Harry couldn’t understand him.

“Hold on tight.”

“Where are we going?” Harry asked. When there was no reply, he opened his mouth to ask again but the  _crack_ of an apparation, a pull near his navel and the uncomfortable sensation of being sucked into nothing stopped him.

“Are you out of your mind?” Harry snarled when they landed. “You could have splinched us.”

“Oh no,” Malfoy shook his head. “Splinched you? Yes. Me? Never.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I can’t imagine why. I’m delightful.”

Harry refused to respond, nope, Malfoy wasn’t going to win that one. He dropped Malfoy’s arm as he looked around. Their location was hard to pinpoint but what really got to him was— “I thought you said your flat.”

The place was huge. Sure, it was no Manor but it was at least 4 times the size of his own flat.

Malfoy’s nose scrunched up and his lips pursed as he tried to see what Harry was seeing. “It is. This is my flat.”

“Rich people problems,” Harry mumbled.

“You know you have a lot of money—”

“Are you going to invite me in or not?”

“I see where your friends get it from.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me, Potter.”

Harry spluttered and he hoped the heat on his face was his own imagination. “You’d be so lucky.”

“Oh?” Malfoy opened the door but refused to move, causing their bodies to brush up against each other as Harry walked in. “You could show me.”

“Quit taking the piss.”

“Who said I was?”

“I—” Harry frowned. “I would never.”

“Ah, but I thought I would be the lucky one.” There was a smirk on Malfoy’s face and Harry hated it.

“Quit confusing me.”

Malfoy emptied his pockets, eyes on Harry and a brow lifted before he waved his wand and out came a patronus that was too quick for him to decipher as it zoomed away. “You make it so easy.”

“I’ll leave,” threatened Harry, not entirely sure if he meant it.

“Go right ahead,” Malfoy lifted a hand towards the door. “You are the one that needs me, not the other way around. Don’t forget that.”  

Defeated, Harry sat on a gaudy love seat that probably cost more than several months of groceries. “What’s the plan?”

Malfoy sat across from him, legs crossed, and hands folded.

“That’s where we have a problem.”

“Problem?”

“I can get you in no problem. Our attendance is going to draw a lot of attention, as amusing as that will be, it’s unwanted.”

“Why?” Harry narrowed his eyes when Malfoy looked away. He didn’t trust him at all.

“How can we take it with eyes on us?”

“ _Take?”_ Harry leaned forward. “We aren’t _stealing_  it.”

“Oh really?” Malfoy scoffed. “And you think just talking to Nott will get you the ring?”

He scratched the side of his head. That  _had_ been what he had hoped.

“I can talk to Greengrass.”

“Ha!” Malfoy’s face was expressionless, and Harry didn’t appreciate the notion.

“You don’t know Astoria, do you?”

“No, why?”

“Astoria gets what she wants, Potter.”

“And she wants Nott?”

“Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s because you aren’t pureblood.”

Harry’s fists clenched and he glared. “Blood isn’t everything.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “It’s not a dig, Potter. It’s a social etiquette that you wouldn’t understand. Their marriage may seem like love to you, however, it’s anything but.”

After his disastrous attempts at marriage  _for_ love, Harry couldn’t fathom attempting it for social standing. Marriage made him sick.

“Is that where you were headed? With Nott?”

When sparks flew out of the tips of Malfoy’s fingertips, Harry knew he fucked up.

_“Don’t.”_ Malfoy hissed; eyes so narrowed it was hard to see them. “Don’t presume to know anything about me, nor my past relationships.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You think I came to you that night for social etiquette?” Malfoy looked to the ceiling, a few sparks hovering over his hands. “You think I came to you because I wanted to secure the Malfoy name further? You think I came to you for anything other than what it looked like?”

“I don’t—”

“No, you don’t know!” Malfoy yelled, truly yelled and Harry didn’t know what to do. “I loved him, Potter. More than you will ever know. I didn’t give a damn what his blood status was. I wouldn’t have cared. I never once looked at him and wondered how he could be of use to me. That’s not what love is. I wanted to be better for him. It was never about our surnames.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. “About that night too.”

“I don’t want your apologies.” Malfoy looked down at his lap. “They mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to me.”

Ouch. Why bother trying? Harry huffed as he wondered for the millionth time if any of it was worth it.

“Neither Nott or Astoria will see reason,” Malfoy cleared his throat after a stifling silence. “Go ahead and be the valiant Gryffindor all you want; it won’t get you anywhere.”

“I have to try,” Harry said. He didn’t want to steal, but he wanted his ring back more. “I owe it to myself to at least do that.”

Malfoy shrugged as the sparks disappeared and an atmosphere of  _something_ was left behind. “You do that. But I’ll still move forward with my plan because we’ll need something when yours fails.”

“You seem so confident.”

“I always am.”

“Then what was the problem you mentioned earlier?”

Malfoy settled further into the chair and Harry could see that he was tired, exhausted even.

“As I said, the attention we’ll bring will be unwanted. We need a distraction, or we’ll have eyes on us all night.”

“What kind of distraction?”

There was a small quirk of Malfoy’s lips and that worried him.

“You know, I wasn’t so sure myself until I saw them,” Malfoy smiled, and the sight truly was appalling. Someone so negative shouldn’t be allowed to smile.

He was afraid to ask but— “Them?”

“What’s worse than two unexpected guests?” When Harry only shrugged, Malfoy sighed heavily.

“Six unexpected guests. Do keep up, Potter.”

“I—” Harry paused to groan. “You can’t be serious.”

“Good for us they are all morons.”

“Hey, you can’t talk about them like that!”

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he leaned forward, a strange smirk on his lips.

“I propose we get ourselves a team.”

“I don’t know about this,” Harry shook his head. “This is starting to sound a lot like a heist.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

The smirk turned dark and Harry couldn’t help but shudder.

“A heist in more ways than one.” Malfoy’s head cocked to the side and his eyes went upward as if he was listening closely to something that Harry couldn’t hear.

“If you want them to help,” Harry paused when Malfoy stood up. “Does that mean we are telling them about the fake relationship?” He frowned with each step Malfoy took toward him.

“Whoa!” Harry said when Malfoy straddled his lip. “What are you—”

“We could,” He whispered, arms wrapped around Harry’s neck. “But tell me, Potter, where’s the fun in that?”

“What are you doing?”

Malfoy pressed his mouth against the shell of Harry’s ear as he murmured, “Playing the part.”

“Wha—”

The sound of the floo cut off Harry, and Malfoy tightened his hold around his neck keeping him seated.

“Harry,” Ron’s panting voice could be heard. “We rushed over as soon as we could. It wasn’t easy, your instructions were pretty shotty, but Neville figured—"

Harry looked over Malfoy’s shoulder to see Ron, Neville and Dean standing there eyes wide. Before he could say something, the floo sounded again and out came Seamus.

“You guys are always leaving me behind, and I’m sick of— _what the fuck?”_

“Evening gentlemen,” Malfoy said, voice a silky purr. “Welcome to our home.”

_Ours_??

When Ron locked eyes with Harry, he knew he was screwed. Absolutely screwed.

“I  _know_  I didn’t hear that right,” Dean said, finger raised eyebrows arched.  _“What_ is going on?”

“I’d like the answer to that too.”

Harry shifted Malfoy so that he blocked the line of sight to Ron. Brave didn’t mean cowardness was always absent.

“Why did you call us here, Harry, if you were only going to snog?” Seamus asked, nose wrinkled.

“I didn’t,” he frowned as Malfoy lowered his mouth to his neck, and  _oh_  that was new. “Stop that,” he hissed when the light press of lips turned into a rough bite.

“You didn’t call us?” Neville crossed his arms. “It wasn’t your patronus we saw? It wasn’t your voice in the message?”

_“What?”_

The bites turned into a smile, and Harry could feel it against his skin.

“What did you do?” Harry tried to be quiet, but the room was so still, he was sure the whisper carried.

Malfoy raised his head, eyes downcast but there was a mischievous smirk on his face that only Harry could see.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I promised you months ago that I’d quit.”

“What?” Harry breathed, confusion coupling with desperation when Malfoy’s eyes widened, and his mouth pursed into a pout. The expression overall looked innocent and even beseeching. Something that looked horrendously out of place on him.

“You know,” Malfoy whispered, eyelashes fluttering, and the shy act was so real it  _almost_  convinced him. “Seducing people.”

_That_ sure carried. A half-choke, half-cough escaped Ron, and Neville had to hit him on the back.

“He’s taking the piss,” Harry rushed to emphasize but when Malfoy looked over his shoulder and winked at Ron, the explanation fell flat.

“I’m married!” Ron held up his hands as he inched closer to the fireplace.

“I’m not,” Seamus mumbled, eyes on Malfoy’s arse that was still perched on Harry’s lap. Neville reached over Dean to smack him on the back of the head.

“Oi!” Harry said, offence taking root as Seamus glared at Neville. Malfoy was  _his_  fake boyfriend.

“So, you didn’t send us the patronus?” Dean asked and the suspicion in his voice was palpable. “Because it was pretty convincing.”

Harry shook his head. “Wasn’t me.”

The innocent expression on Malfoy’s face faded as Ron asked, “Isn’t it illegal to tamper with a patronus?”

“It’s illegal to tamper with  _other_ people’s patronus. The law says nothing about your own.” The narrowed eyes and bored drawl came back full force. Ah, _that_  was the Malfoy he knew.

“Your patronus is a stag?”

“What?” Harry tried to sit up straighter, but Malfoy wouldn’t budge. “Your patronus is a  _what_  now?”

“Oh, you should be so lucky, Potter,” Malfoy repeated Harry’s words. “My patronus is  _not_ a stag. I camouflaged it.”

_“That’s illegal,”_  Neville pointed a finger at Malfoy.

“Oh, you think so?” Malfoy shrugged. “Go ahead, report me, let’s see how well that holds up in court.”

“What really is your patronus?” Ron asked as he continued to step closer to the fireplace.

“You’ll never know, Weasley.”

Ron narrowed his eyes before he looked between them. “How did you get his voice?”

A harsh scoff could be heard before Malfoy snorted. “Like I’m going to tell you.”

“I think that’s illegal too,” mumbled Neville.

“And what are you going to do about it? Hm? I’m listening.” Malfoy removed a hand from Harry’s neck to examine it right as his fingertips lit up with wandless magic. It was threatening and Harry didn’t blame Neville when he stepped behind Seamus.

“Play nice,” Harry nudged Malfoy.

“If it was you and not Harry,” Ron frowned. “Then why did you want us here?”

“Ah!” Malfoy clapped his hands once as he turned around on Harry’s lap, back to chest, and faced Ron directly. “Potter needs a favour.”

“Harry does?” Seamus arched a brow. “Sounds like it’s you, mate, that needs it.”

“Tell them, Potter.” A jab to his chest with Malfoy’s elbow had Harry wincing.

“We both—” another jab. “Ow, you absolute— _ow_.” Several more jabs and Harry  _had_  it. He started to poke Malfoy  _hard_.

“Poke me one more time and see what I do to your hand.”

“You started it!”

“What are you eleven?”

“Seems like it! I’m having a flashback to Hogwarts with your maturity level.”

“Oh, you did  _not_ ,” Malfoy growled as he started to use both elbows.

“Should we intervene?” Neville asked. “They might kill each other.”

“Nah,” Dean argued. “I want to see who survives.”

“Potter, I swear on Merlin that you better—”

Harry grabbed Malfoy’s biceps and held them back. “Hm? I better do what? Not so tough now.”

The room grew colder as an electric hum sounded before Malfoy’s skin went up in temperature so hot that Harry had to release him.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“Teach you not to touch me.”

“Is this foreplay?” Seamus shouted to be heard as Harry tried to poke Malfoy again.

Harry froze, finger already raised to attack. Unfortunately, Malfoy used that to his advantage and elbowed him again.

“Because if it is,” Seamus continued pointedly when Malfoy let out huff. “They can leave, and I can watch.”

“Can you not?” Neville asked. “This is a serious matter.”

“Is it though?” Seamus countered, head tilted, and eyes squinted. “I’m still not even sure this is real. Seems like a hallucination to me.”

“How much of my plants did you steal?” demanded Neville. “That shit is not supposed to be inhaled. Ron tell him.”

“You’re a moron, Seamus.”

“Thank you, Ron,” Neville sniffled as he turned purposefully away from Seamus.

“Can we get back to the point?” Harry cleared his throat and held his hands up ready to block anything Malfoy could attempt.

“As I was saying,” Malfoy huffed. “Potter needs a favour. Isn’t that right?”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was easier to let Malfoy get his way than to argue.

“Okay,” he took a deep breath. There were several ways he could have gone about it. He could have asked nicely, laid it all out with a calm nature or even eased them into it. But tact had never been Harry’s specialty.

“I need you to help me steal a ring from next week’s Sacred 28 party.”

Silence. Complete and utter silence before—

“Are you taking the mickey?”

“What!”

“Have you gone mad?”

“Hell no, I’m still on probation from when I got caught with the leaves of that venomous plant of Neville’s.”

“Seamus,” Neville sighed. “This is why you are banned from my greenhouses.”

Ron’s hands rose only for them to shake as he shook his head. “Are you really, well,  _you_?”

“Ron—”

“Because out of nowhere Malfoy shows up claiming to be your boyfriend. We get duped into coming here where he says is  _your_ home, which I still haven’t gotten an explanation for, and now you want us to steal for Malfoy?”

“Believe me, Weasley, it’s not for me. This was all Potter’s idea.”

Ron slumped against the fireplace as his hands fell limply to his side.

“Hey!” Harry argued. “It was your idea to steal it, not mine.”

“Only because you thought you could talk your way out of there with it.”

“I still think I can.”

“That’s because you’re naïve.”

“I’ll have you know—”

_“Shut up!”_  Ron yelled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is only so much I can handle of the two of you together.”

“That’s—”

“I said shut up, Malfoy.”

Surprisingly, Malfoy said nothing. Harry was almost jealous. What kind of secret powers did Ron have for Malfoy to close his damn mouth?

“Harry,” Ron exhaled, eyes concerned in a way that had him guilty. “What’s going on?”

“Have you talked to Ginny at all?” Harry tried not to rub the back of his neck; he knew he was nervous, but he didn’t want Ronto  _know_  that.

“Not since I accidentally insulted her biscuits at the last family dinner. How was I to know they were  _supposed_  to taste sour? Bloody nasty if you ask me.”

“Then have you read the papers recently?”

“Why would I read the Prophet? Waste of money. It’s always been tra—”

“Bloody hell,” Malfoy snarled. “Nott is getting married.”

“Whoa.”

“Nott as in Theodore Nott?”

“What other Nott’s do you know, Dean?” Seamus snorted.

“Well,  _excuse me_. A little clarification never hurt anyone.”

“Wait,” Neville’s forehead wrinkled. “You  _both_ dated him.”

“Oh ew,” Ron’s mouth twisted. “Imagine sharing an ex with—”

Malfoy raised his hands, magic extending from both all digits. “You want to finish that sentence, Weasley? I’ve got the time.”

“So, it’s what petty revenge?” Ron asked as he scooted closer to Neville. “You want to steal from Nott because he hurt you?”

The tips of Malfoy’s fingers flared brighter before the magic dispersed.

“He proposed to Greengrass with the ring I bought him,” Harry whispered, hands unconsciously falling to Malfoy’s hips.

“What a fucking prick.”

“Screw probation, I’m in.”

“Seamus, that’s a bad idea.”

“Quit worrying, Neville.”

“Have you  _met_  me? That’s all I ever do. I don’t think we should do it.”

Ron stepped away from the fireplace and walked forward. “You really want to do this? You want to barge into a room full of snotty, uptight, bigoted, pretentious, ostentatious and vile purebloods?”

Malfoy bristled but said nothing.

“I want that ring back,” Harry’s hands tightened around Malfoy’s hips. “I owe it to myself. This is for me.”

“And what about you?” Ron asked Malfoy, arms folded and foot tapping against the ground. “What do get out of it?”

“My business is my own.” Harry dug his nails into Malfoy when Ron narrowed his eyes. “And to help out my boyfriend.”

‘Boyfriend,’ Ron mouthed. “Never thought you two dating would be the least insane thing I’ve heard today.”

Harry liked to think that Ron bought their relationship, but he knew him, knew that there would be more questions.

“No, Seamus,” Neville’s voice carried over. “I don’t see what good it will do. It’s dangerous and  _stupid_.”

“Come on—”

“I think we should do it,” Ron said, eyes still on Harry and Malfoy.

“What?” Neville asked, hands pulling at his hair.

“It’s for Harry after all.”

Silence was the only answer. Harry looked at Neville and couldn’t help but smile at the pinched expression and slight purse of his lips.

“Alright,” Neville shook his head. “I think it’s idiotic, and makes no sense, but alright.”

“Oh, so you’ll listen to Ron but not me?”

“Ron doesn’t smoke dangerous plants.”

“I knew you’d say that, it’s all you ever say.”

“That’s because it’s the truth, you could try it sometime.”

When Malfoy snorted, a flash of uncertainty passed across Neville’s face and  _that_ made Harry snort.

“So, we’re doing this?” Seamus asked, hand on his hip and a far too pleased grin on his face. “Wait, Dean, you haven’t—”

“ _Now_ you remember I’m here.”

Dean’s eyes were on the ground and his brows were pinched. “Have you all forgotten that I’m a Muggleborn?”

A hollow laugh left Dean as he looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t forget, must be nice.”

“Dean—”

“You’re all worried about what’ll happen if you get caught but conveniently forget the dangers that  _I_ would face. Three purebloods and two half-bloods. You’ll be fine. It’s people just like  _me_ they don’t like. People like  _me_ who are still facing discrimination. But you want me to go in there anyway?”

“I’ll protect you,” said Malfoy, and Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

“Full offence,” Dean laughed a touch wet, “but where were you when I was hunted and on the run? Where were you when I was in your bloody cellar? Where were you when every other Muggleborn like me were so hated that they, in turn, hated themselves for just being who they are? Where were you when people were harmed at the hands of your father?”

Harry tried to wandlessly summon his wand just in case things went sour, but he stilled when Malfoy whispered, “You’re right.”

“I did nothing to help Muggleborns, I did nothing to help you or anyone else _. I did nothing_ ,” Malfoy’s fists clenched, and Harry wished he could see his face.

“Doing nothing helped me survive. I could have spoken up when Muggleborns were attacked, I could have spoken up when you were in the cellar. I could have spoken up, said something, done something. But tell me, Thomas, where would that have gotten me?”

Dean frowned and it was clear he didn’t understand.

“If I had spoken up and burned the only bridge I’ve ever known, turned my back on the only people and family—however shitty they are—that I’ve ever known, who was to take me in? Who was going to help a 16-year-old branded Death Eater?”

Malfoy lifted his left arm and Harry had to look over his shoulder to be able to see the faded but easily identifiable Dark Mark.

“You think I didn’t know when I got this what a colossal mistake it was? You think I didn’t know I had chosen the wrong side? You think I didn’t know that it would follow me for the rest of my life? Of course I did! But I had to survive, Thomas. I had to make it out of there and joining was the only option I had.”

“You could have switched sides.”

“Tell me honestly if any of you would have had my back in a fight?” Several of them looked away and it had Harry curious. What would he have done?

“You think joining the very people who can’t stand me was appealing? The very people who hated what my family stood for? You think at any point I would have been safe under Dumbledore’s rule? It’s so easy for the righteous to judge what they’ve never been through. Fighting when you’ve been on the right side your whole life is easy. But fighting when all you’ve known is wrong, is hard and it wasn’t something I could do. Not when I had a hell of a lot more to lose by leaving.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Dean argued. “It doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” Malfoy agreed. “It doesn’t. But it does show that not everything is split between right and wrong. There was a middle ground and I just wanted to live to see another day. I wanted to protect my mother, so I did whatever I could, and unfortunately, that meant servitude to a madman.”

“I don’t like it.”

“And that’s okay,” Malfoy said. “I don’t expect we’ll be friends. I’ve never been nice to you and I certainly am not someone you’d like to be around.”

When Dean shrugged, Malfoy leaned forward. “But I want you to know that I would protect you. I know what those people are like. Not in the same way you do, never at the hands of their cruelty, but I know them. I know how they work, and I promise you, you’d be safe.”

“Dean,” Harry shifted Malfoy the best he could as he sat up a tiny bit straighter. “You don’t have to do this. We can do it without you or find someone else.”

Dean scoffed, a small sad smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Like who? Hermione?”

“Hell no,” Ron said, brows angrily merged and frown pulling downward. “Maybe Ginny? She’d be safe.”

“I’ll do it,” Dean closed his eyes. “I swear to God, Malfoy, you better be right.”

“I am.” Malfoy leaned back, head resting on Harry’s shoulder.

“Erm,” Neville lifted a finger. “How exactly do you plan on getting Dean into a party filled with the Sacred 28?”

“I have a plan.”

Harry waited for Malfoy to elaborate but when he didn’t, he frowned.

“I can’t believe we are putting our livelihood in the hands of Malfoy,” Seamus said as he took a swig from his flask. Harry would toast to that. He wanted to reassure everyone that it would all be okay, but he didn’t exactly trust Malfoy either.

Malfoy turned his head into Harry’s neck, and he could feel another smile. Was that something he did to hide the fact that he  _could_ smile?

Ron looked around the room with a big exhale. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

There was another grin pressed into Harry’s neck, and Harry couldn’t help but return Ron’s sentiment in his head.

Yeah, they were fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another two parts from my tumblr, which will mean that the next update for here might be two updates out. We shall see, it depends on how long those updates become. Thank you for everyone who showed an interest in my story, it means a lot. 
> 
> Want to give a special shoutout to Gigi, my ever wonderful soulmate and beta. 
> 
> Let me know any thoughts or theories, I am so curious. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	3. Vintage by Design

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of this chapter was beta'd by my beautiful soulmate Gigi and the rest due to my own faults was not able to be looked at lmao. So all the mistakes are mine.

“Run that by me again,” Harry said as he laid on Malfoy’s floor; the ceiling had been bewitched to look like constellations and he was mesmerized. “You’re saying Ron can just walk in? No invite? No date? Nothing?”

“Longbottom too,” Malfoy said distractedly as the sound of rustling parchment could be heard. Harry wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d been invested in them for an hour.

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s a pureblood for you.”

“Sounds unfair.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

Harry scoffed. Talking to Malfoy was always a headache.

“How do we get Seamus in?”

When Malfoy didn’t answer, Harry tilted his head back the best he could. His view was upside down, but he could tell that Malfoy was still looking over the paperwork.

“What are you doing?”

“None of your business.”

“If you frown like that anymore, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Malfoy’s brows furrowed as he peered over the parchment. “I’m not frowning.”

“You were.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Ah,” Harry said slowly and sagely. “But you aren’t sure.”

“Why must you always annoy me?”

“I thought that was your role.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“Do me a favour and kindly shut the fuck up.”

Harry huffed before he looked back up to the ceiling. “Why did you tell me to come over if you were just going to be ignoring me?”

“Is baby jealous?”

“Don’t call me that,” shuddered Harry.

“If you must know,” Malfoy’s tone suggested Harry didn’t. “I’m looking over the planning party’s orders.”

Harry sat up cross-legged and narrowed his eyes. “Planning party?”

“You thought Nott was going to plan his own engagement party?” Malfoy snorted. “Nott of all people.”

“How did you get the orders?”

A slow satisfied smirk crossed Malfoy’s face and it was creepy.

“I have my ways.”

“Did you know that you’re kind of scary?”

The smirk grew wider and Harry shook his head in response. Malfoy was a lost cause.

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Malfoy ignored him as he moved to the fireplace. The address wasn’t recognized but Harry was curious enough to move closer.

Before he got close enough to see, Malfoy shoved him out of the way— _hard_.  

“Idiot,” Malfoy hissed. “You can’t be seen.”

Harry rubbed his elbow where he had slammed it against the wall. He was going to kill Malfoy.

“Welcome to  _Vintage by Design_ ,” A bored tone drawled, and he could see Malfoy’s already rigid posture stiffen further. “You’ve reached our Floo service. My name is Bramble, how may I be of help to you?”

“Bramble, is it?” Malfoy sneered, and Harry felt for Bramble, he did. “ _My_ name is Draco Malfoy and I’ve got a problem.”

A crash and audible scrambling could be heard, and he had to bite his cheek to stop from laughing.

“Ah, Mister Malfoy,” Bramble stumbled over his words. “A problem? I’d be happy to help.”

Malfoy smiled but it was condescending and his sympathies for Bramble went up.

“I’m  _sure_  you are.” The disgusted tone was reminiscent of their Hogwarts years and Harry didn’t miss it.  

“I was tasked with speaking to your  _company_ ,” the last word was said with such palpable distaste that Harry grimaced. “About the entertainment for the Nott & Greengrass party. I’m not sure why it’s all wrong.”

“I— _you_  Mister Malfoy?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“The Nott & Greengrass party?”

“Are you stupid?”

“I—It’s just that our coordinator for the entertainment was D—”

“Me. Look at the paperwork one more time. It says D.M. That’s me.”

“One of my co-workers said something about McMillan—”

“Did they now? You thought  _McMillan_ of all families was going to show up?”

“I did think the likelihood was slim,” Bramble muttered, and Harry could hear the confusion. “The last generation was more  _progressive.”_

Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly,  _Vintage by Design_ was for higher class wizards.

“You said there was a problem, sir?”

“The person I booked for entertainment is not who is on the list.”

Rustling could be heard over the crackle of the fire, and the urge to look was strong, but the glare Malfoy sent him was stronger.

“It looks like the Weird Sisters Reunion show was booked for the party.”

What? The Weird Sisters were having a reunion? He hadn’t ever realized they broke up. And they would do it for Nott? Harry had always known there was a reason he didn’t like them.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You see, they were my backup plan  _not_ the original.”

“I’m sure we can cancel; Nott will have to pay the cancellation fee though. The Weird Sisters are not cheap.”

The pleased smirk on Malfoy’s face caused Harry to snort softly into his hand.

“What should I put down for the entertainment, Mister Malfoy?”

“I have been lucky enough to get a Quidditch star to agree to attend and he’s got something planned.”

_“What?”_  Harry wheezed. He slapped his knee when Malfoy glared at him. He couldn’t help it. Seamus a Quidditch star?

“Oh! Not as grand as the Weird Sisters but I have heard that Miss Greengrass is a Quidditch fan. She’ll appreciate that. May I ask who it is?”

Harry couldn’t help the loud half-choke, half-wheeze that left him. The sound was croaked, and he worried his lungs would fail him.

“Is everything okay over there?”

That had Harry laughing harder and he couldn’t help but stomp his feet. The laughter wouldn’t stop, not even when Malfoy shot a stinging hex at him.

“Yes, I think my cat is dying, that’s all.”

“We can continue this another time.”

“No, continue, I never liked the bloody thing anyway.”

“Oh, um,” Bramble hesitated, and Harry snorted. “Who did you say the Quidditch star was?”

“I didn’t,” Malfoy drawled. “The team is the Tornadoes if that helps.”

“Alright. I’ll go ahead and cancel the Weird Sisters and set aside an invite for the Tornadoes player.”

The laughter left Harry as he sat up straight. Wait. That was it? Malfoy just… just did it? That easily?”

“Should there be any further questions, I would like to know,” Malfoy said, tone hard and eyes narrowed. “I was not pleased when I saw the orders.”

“I—I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” Bramble sounded scared and Harry kind of wished he had that effect on people.

“How sorry?”

He couldn’t help but be impressed when Bramble rushed to offer discounts should Malfoy need a party planner in the future.

It wasn’t until Malfoy closed the floo on Bramble who was still offering apologies that Harry was able to relax.

“Forget kind of scary. You are full-blown scary.”

“You,” Malfoy growled. “You almost blew it.”

“Well excuse me, a little warning and I would have laughed  _before_ the floo. You can’t just surprise me like that.”

“That’s not an explanation,” Malfoy argued. “That’s an excuse.”

“A good one.”

“I disagree.”

“Who cares what you think.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy,” Harry mocked with a slight sneer.

“I cannot wait until this is done with, so I never have to see you again.”

“Please,” Harry scoffed. “You’ll miss me.”

Malfoy opened his mouth only to close it and shake his head. A small victory.

“What exactly do you expect Seamus to do for entertainment?” Harry asked with a small chuckle. “He’s a reserve player, never played an official match. No one’s even going to know who he is.”

“I’m sure he’ll come up with something.”

_“What?_ You are going to let  _him_ come up with a plan?”

“Why not?” Malfoy absentmindedly asked as he began to look over the paperwork again.

“That’s a horrible idea. He’s going to make a mess.”

“And?”

“ _And_ he’ll probably try and steal someone’s jewellery or a damn plant if they have a greenhouse.”

“I’m not seeing the problem.”

Harry threw his hands in the air. “What do you mean you don’t see a problem? He’s going to draw so much attention to— _ohh_.”

“Knew you’d catch on eventually.”

Harry didn’t appreciate the snark, he really didn’t.

“You want him to be the giant mess that he is.”

“Exactly.”

“That company is going to lose so much business.”

Malfoy arched a brow, not bothering to look up. “Do you care?”

“Not really.” Part of him felt like he should care, but there was nothing.

“Now that Seamus is taken care of,” Harry sat down next to Malfoy, ignoring the unfriendly glare. “What about Dean?”

“I said I had a plan, didn’t I?”

“No shit,” Harry scrunched his face up. “I meant, what is it?”

“Why don’t you figure it out for yourself?’’

“Huh—”

All the papers Malfoy had been obsessed with were dumped into his lap and he had to scramble to catch them all before any fell.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Malfoy placed his hands behind his head and stretched his feet out until a footrest appeared out of nowhere. “Go on, pull your own weight here.”

“I’d like to think I have been.”

Malfoy snorted harder than was attractive. “You’re full of shit.”

“I got my friends involved, didn’t I?”

“No,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “I did that.”

“It still counts.” He refused to admit Malfoy was right. Instead, he picked up the first piece of parchment. It was a list of guests that  _could_  show up, no guaranteed attendees.

“That one is useless.”

“Is it?”

Harry frowned down at the list before he peered up into Malfoy’s too smug face.

“You’re trying to confuse me.”

“Am I?”

“Stop it!” Harry hissed when Malfoy’s brows arched. “Just sit there quietly, not saying a word. I know that’ll be hard for you. You like the attention and—”

“Potter, you’re the only one talking. Quit rambling.”

Harry harrumphed louder than necessary as he moved onto the next one. It was a list of food, equipment, decorations and donations. Nothing caught his attention and he was going to skip that one too until he caught sight of a small footnote.

_Painting on loan, preferably from the National Artistry Wizard Museum or the National Wizard History Museum, will check options._

“Wait,” Harry reread the whole page and triple checked the footnotes. “Nott wants a fancy schmancy painting behind him while they eat?”

“Does that surprise you?”

No. It didn’t. Nott liked to draw attention to himself, something Harry never liked, it made him uneasy.

“Has  _Vintage by Design_  already chosen the place?”

Malfoy shook his head as he picked at his robes. “They haven’t picked a painting either.”

It was obvious what Malfoy was insinuating, but he wasn’t entirely sure Dean would go for it.

“You want Dean to ask the museum if his painting can be on loan?”

“Oh no,” Malfoy leaned forward into Harry’s personal space. “I want  _you_ to ask the museum.”

“Why me?”

“Use your brain Potter, I know it must be hard, nothing up there, but do try.”

“Eat my arse,  _Malfoy_ ,” snarled Harry.

Malfoy’s eyes twinkled as his lips twitched and Harry wasn’t sure what to do with  _that_.

“You want me to?” Malfoy’s nose scrunched up in amusement, and Harry was  _not_  amused. “Can’t say I have a lot of practice with that. Usually been on the receiving end, but they say you only live once.”

“Malfoy,” Harry tried to scoot away but Malfoy followed him until Harry’s back pressed against the arm of the sofa.

“Hm, yes, Potter?”

“What are you doing?” The question came out breathy and he placed his hands on Malfoy’s stomach to act as a buffer between them.

“Waiting for you to answer my question.” His face was so close to Harry’s that he could smell Malfoy’s cologne.

“I don’t need you to eat me out.”

Malfoy laughed, actually  _laughed,_ and he couldn’t process it fully before, “Not the question I meant, but alright.”

It took embarrassingly long for Harry to realize he meant the museum.

“Well, if Dean asked, they might wonder why, right?”

“Mhm,” Malfoy prompted as he moved Harry’s hands. “Keep going.”

“I can’t think of why you’d want me to ask unless it was my name that would make them.”

“Right.” Malfoy’s hands were wrapped around his wrist and it was distracting. What was he doing?

“I don’t know how a painting on loan would work,” the last word came out as a choke as Malfoy placed a hand on his chest. “I’m sure they would want someone to go with the painting.”

When Malfoy said nothing, Harry tried to figure out if that was by design or if he was planning something.

“I could ask to talk to the creator and then Dean could be the one to come with.”

“Good job, Potter,” Malfoy whispered a breath away, noses touching.  

_Oh._ That wasn’t fair. Praise should not be given so close to his lips.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Playing a very dangerous game.”

“For you or for me?” Harry pushed against Malfoy’s head until their foreheads were pressed together.

“I’m always in it for myself, didn’t you know?” It was self-deprecating and Harry could tell it was an insult Malfoy had been  _told._

“Then make it dangerous for you.”

Malfoy’s eyes searched his, no smirk on his face, no twitch of lips, just open curiosity.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “I don’t. I don’t even know if I want it.”

The sound of the floo could be heard but they didn’t move.

“Then perhaps, another time,” Malfoy whispered just as footsteps and voices could be heard.

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” Ron’s complaint was heard before he was seen. “She was suspicious of me!”

“It  _is_ Hermione after all,” Dean pointed out. “She’s bound to know you’re being suspicious.”

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“We  _know_ , Neville. You’ve said it enough.”

The sound of the floo went off again and Harry was still staring into Malfoy’s eyes. Had they always had specks of blue in them?

“How many times do I have to say not to leave me behind?” Seamus huffed. “Merlin none of you care about me.”

“And you two!” Seamus yelled, making Harry jump and jostle Malfoy slightly. “Quit snogging every time we come by.”

There was no use pointing out that they hadn’t, but it was a dangerous game as Malfoy put it.

“Make me,” Malfoy said and with the way his eyes were still on Harry’s face, he couldn’t tell who Malfoy was talking to.

“Malfoy,” Harry started but couldn’t think of what to say after that. There was something unfinished, only he couldn’t understand what it was.

The curiosity vanished and Malfoy’s face returned to no emotions and cold eyes as he got up and moved away. Harry wasn’t as comforted by it as he thought he would have been.

“So,” Ron plopped down on top of Harry’s legs and put his head on his chest. “What did we interrupt?”

“Nothing.” The truth came out before he thought better of it. “Nothing at all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Harry ran his fingers through Ron’s hair and sighed. He wasn’t sure he believed himself either. The whole fake boyfriend was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

_“What do you mean I’m the entertainment?!”_ Seamus cried, and for the second time that day, Harry cracked up.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry checked the clock for the fifth time in the span of a half hour. Malfoy had said to meet him later, but never gave a destination, while it was not surprising, it  _was_  annoying. Plus, he had his own life to live, a job to do, places to be—vague notes were not enough.

“Mister Potter? I’m not sure I understand this part.”

A small smile lifted the corner of his lips as he knelt down. Malfoy might be an arse, but he wasn’t going to ruin his day. Not when Harry had his own physical essence of a patronus in the form of his students.

“What can’t you figure out, Cooper?”

“The book says wizards don’t use electricity.”

“That’s right.”

Cooper bit her lip as she peered down at the illustration of a candle. “Does Hogwarts  _really_  only have candles and lanterns?”

“It sure does.” He chuckled when her shoulders slumped, and she frowned.

“It’s not as bad as it seems. Sure, there were times when I had to use far too many candles to light up one room versus a flick of a switch in the Muggle world, but you get used to it.”

When her frown deepened and her lip trembled, Harry bent a little more to be on eye level.

“It’s not the candles that are bothering you, is it?”

Cooper shook her head as her eyes teared up.

“I don’t like this,” she whispered. “Magic isn’t supposed to be real and—and now I’m so  _confused_. It’s not like learning a new maths course. It’s a whole different world!”

“I know.”

“The books say Muggle  _this_  and Muggle  _that_  but that’s my  _home_.”

“I know,” Harry wiped the tears from under her eyes.

“Can you say anything else?” Cooper glared at him with watery eyes and it reminded him of someone else with a fiery disposition.

“It’s scary leaving, scary trying new things and that’s why you are so  _brave_.”

“Brave?” Copper sniffed loudly as she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “It’s brave being a Muggleborn?”

“It sure is,” he promised. “Muggleborns leave a piece of them when they go to Hogwarts. They have a piece of their previous life and a piece of who they are, who they can become. They give up  _so_ much just to go to school and it’s something their other classmates will never understand. You  _are_ brave, and I don’t want you to think otherwise.”

“Why can’t you be my schoolteacher?”

Harry laughed, glad to see she was only pouting, and no more tears were in her eyes.

“I thought about it. People tell me I had the potential to teach the next wizard generation, that I could teach them what I learned, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to help those in ways I was never helped.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t have a Muggleborn Acclimation Teacher?”

Harry shook his head slowly, a smile forming when she looked offended. “I got my letter two months before Hogwarts started and there wasn’t a single lesson. Just the letter.”

The scandalized gasp Cooper let out, let him know that she’d be just fine.

“But that’s not fair!”

“I know.”

“The other students would know so much more than you.”

Harry shrugged. “In a lot of ways they didn’t, but I was league behinds in everyday Wizardology and the way things were run. Everyone might have been on even ground when it came to spells and the basics of them, but I didn’t know the history of the world I was entering. I didn’t know the fundamentals of their society at all. And Hogwarts doesn’t teach you that, it’s something you learn on your own.”

“Was.”

“Hm?” Harry peered down at her angry face.

“ _Was_  something learned on your own. You teach us now.”

“That I do,” he said softly. “I petitioned the Ministry to allow this class to exist. I help Muggleborns acclimate into Wizard society but I’m not a part of Hogwarts. It’s just me.”

“And the Ministry is like the parliament?”

When he nodded, and she gasped again, he couldn’t help but grin.

“You must be powerful.”

“Not really. Just someone who did the best they could and continues to try harder each day.”

Cooper looked back down at her book. Her lips were pursed, and her brows were furrowed. “Okay. I can do this. If you were able to do it without help, then I can do it with help.”

“I always knew you could.”

When Harry stood up and stretched his arms behind his back, a whoosh of air left him at the sight of Malfoy standing by his desk. There was a peculiar look in his eyes, and it made him uneasy. It wasn’t a glare, there was no coldness, just…  _something_.

“I didn’t know you’d be stopping by.”

“Neither did I.”

Riddles and half-truths, that was Malfoy’s brand and he hated that he was getting used to it.

Malfoy looked around the room and Harry stiffened. It wasn’t much. The desks weren’t the newest, the floors had ink stains that  _refused_ to come out no matter what he did, the walls were covered in goodbye letters his past students sent him, some drawings scattered around the place and a few file cabinets that were on their last leg stuck out. But despite all that, it was  _his_ creation, his place to help people and he didn’t want any critique or judgement.

“When you became a teacher, the papers never really said what it was that you did, just that you were separate from Hogwarts.”

“You read up on me,” Harry teased, and he was surprised to see Malfoy’s ears turn red.

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I can leave, Potter.”

Harry held his hands up in surrender and tried not to grin at the glare he got in return.

“Independent teachers approved by the government but have no support from local established schools don’t have a lot of money.”

“What are you implying?” Harry narrowed his eyes. Sure, the place wasn’t amazing, but he was doing the best he could.

“I imagine the Potter wealth took a  _substantial_ hit to support all of this, especially with how little the Ministry gives for independent teachers.”

“That’s none of your business,” Harry hissed. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”

Malfoy faced him fully and for the first time, Harry was glad there were no emotions. Pity would have just angered him.

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

Harry looked down at the ground and dug the sole of his shoe into the carpet. “I do fundraisers when we need it, but not too many to draw attention.”

“You shouldn’t have to do fundraisers. The Ministry  _should_ be funding this with the same energy they give Hogwarts.”

“In case it escaped your notice, Malfoy, but the Ministry has always been corrupt.”

“Touché.”

Malfoy looked around the room, eyes pausing on each student working or reading before he took a deep breath.

“If you don’t mind the negative press, the  _Bare Sorcery_  does a lot of special event nights, where locals who want to try our lifestyle for a night, volunteer to dance. The extra money we earn is put into a fund for charities or fundraisers. We could help.”

Harry closed his when he felt them sting. Help wasn’t easy to ask for and he wasn’t sure what to think of it being offered from Malfoy—his enemy, his fake boyfriend, his partner in crime.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Malfoy said. “You don’t even have to agree, but the offer stands if you want it.”

“Thank you, Malfoy.” And he meant it. “Part of me wants to hug you.”

“Please don’t.”

Harry laughed, the sound full of emotion and he couldn’t believe it was over Malfoy.

“Excuse me?”

Malfoy startled when a hand grabbed hold of his robes.

“Arty, that’s not how—"

“Yes?” Malfoy arched a brow when Arty frowned.

“You don’t look like a Muggleborn.”

“Oh? Why do you think that?”

“Your outfit is ugly, that’s why,” Cooper yelled from her seat and Harry had to cover his mouth to stop from chortling.

Arty giggled as he pulled at the strings of Malfoy’s  _expensive_ robes.

“Ugly, huh?” Malfoy asked as he crossed his arms. “What would make it less ugly?”

Several children yelled suggestions at once.

_“It needs to be purple!”_

_“No blue!”_

_“The sleeves are too long!”_

_“Make it not look like a bathrobe!”_

_“Where are your trousers?”_

A puff of smoke engulfed Malfoy and the students stood on the top of their chairs to try and get a better look. Before he could tell them that safety came first, the smoke disappeared, and Harry couldn’t withhold his laughter.

Malfoy’s robes were half blue, half purple with other splatters of colours mixed in. The sleeves had been shortened, the size overall had been taken in and was tighter, and he was wearing a pair of black trousers. Malfoy looked utterly ridiculous, but the children rushed forward, awe on their faces and stars in their eyes, and that meant the world to Harry.

_“Can you teach me that?”_

_“Ooo, much better.”_

_“I kind of liked the way it looked before.”_

_“Shut up, Arty.”_

“Alright, alright,” Harry called when he caught sight of the time. “Don’t crowd the man. He might transfigure you into a robe next.”

“Oh! Can you really do that?” Cooper asked, eyes wide and mouth parted. “Arty wants to volunteer.”

“No, I don’t!”

Malfoy let Arty give him a hug and Harry never thought he’d see him look so  _soft._

“Tell you what,” Malfoy said in a whisper that spelt nothing but trouble for Harry. “If Mister Potter allows it, I can come back another day for a show and tell.”

Harry groaned as he was met with several shouts and pleads.

_“Oh, please please please Mister Potter!”_

_“I’ll study more if we can.”_

_“I’ll stop putting Arty’s stuff where he can’t reach it.”_

_“Hey! I knew it was you!”_

Harry glared at Malfoy who was far too pleased. “They are never going to stop until I say yes.”

Malfoy stepped forward and pulled Harry to him. “Then say yes, Potter. It’s another chance to see me.”

“Oh, in that case, no.”

Malfoy pinched his side and Harry snorted.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in defeat. “Mister Malfoy can come back.”

The cheers the students let out were endearing but what had Harry grinning the widest was when he caught sight of Malfoy waving his fists with the kids.

“Simmer down,” Harry demanded when Cooper got too excited and threw her chair. “Your parents will be here soon, and I have to pretend you are somewhat civilized.”

“But that’s not fun.”

“Life isn’t fun, Cooper.”

“I thought teachers weren’t supposed to say that.”

“Tough luck.”

When the door of his class opened and in came a few parents, Harry looked back to Malfoy who still had a few students gathered around him.

“I have to debrief them,” Harry nodded towards the door. “Do you mind entertaining them for a minute?”

Malfoy looked up from a tale Arty had told Harry countless times, a smile on his face and eyes soft. “No problem.”

Normally, Harry’s routine was down. The students would have been quietly doing their work and those who had finished would have found something else to work on. Debriefing would have been quick and concise, but he was distracted by Malfoy’s presence.

It took him longer than he’d have liked to talk to the parents, and he could tell they noticed by the odd glances they gave him. “They’ll be right out.”

As Harry walked towards the centre of the room where Malfoy was on the floor and the students were fanned out in front of him, he became curious.

“I don’t know Mister Potter’s lessons or how well he has prepared you for how some of the other students may treat you, but some purebloods aren’t very kind.”

“We know,” Cooper said, shoulders tense. “It’s out of our control and Mister Potter says it shows their true character and not ours.”

“Mister Potter is very wise,” Malfoy glanced up, eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

Malfoy grabbed a discarded piece of parchment from the desk nearest to him and transfigured it into several cards.

“I want to ease that if I can.” The cards were passed out to each student, but Harry couldn’t see what they said.

“What’s the seal mean?” Arty asked. “I can’t read the print.”

“It’s the Malfoy Family seal. This card will let any pureblood know that you have  _my_ seal of approval.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and he felt his eyes sting again.

“It’s not much, and it might not work forever, kids can be bullies. I know, trust me,” It was said with a grimace and a lot of shame. “But it’s something. You guys  _are_ brave, and they don’t understand that, but this, this will help. And I  _hope_ that they give you the shot that you deserve.”

A chorus of ‘Thank you’ echoed around the room. Harry had to try twice to clear his throat, but he couldn’t.

“I think your parents are waiting for you.”

The students rushed forward and pulled Malfoy into a hug. “Whoa, careful there. I’m only one person.”

Harry watched him try and return every hug and he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t hate Malfoy. Like him? That was still out for the jury, but hate? No, he could never hate him.

When the door shut and the last of the children were gone, Harry helped pull Malfoy off the floor before he stepped forward and hooked his chin over Malfoy’s shoulders in a semi-awkward hug.

“What is this?” There was amusement in Malfoy’s tone and for the first time, it didn’t bother him.

“A hug.”

“I know that, you twat, why are we doing it?”

“I’m thanking you.”

“Is this how all Gryffindors thank people?”

“No.”

Harry closed his eyes and let the warmth of Malfoy’s body comfort him.

“So, then I’m special?”

It was a joke, a teasing tone and probably a smirk too, but Harry nodded anyway.

“Oh,” Malfoy whispered softly, almost too soft, as if it was just a breath of air. And for just a moment, Malfoy returned the hug with just as much force.

“Alright, I can’t handle any more sap,” Malfoy said before Harry was shoved away.

“It was nice while it lasted.”

Malfoy sat on top of the nearest desk and it made his outfit stand out even more.

“I wanted to know if you talked to the museum.”

Back to business as usual. Only, Harry wasn’t sure why it bothered him.

“Yeah, they were definitely suspicious,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “But when they realized who I was they became a lot nicer.”

“Oh?”

“Originally, they told me to shove off.”

“My kind of people.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “But surprisingly, when I asked if the creator could come with, they were a lot more relaxed about the whole thing.”

“I knew they would be.”

“Yeah? Your ego knows everything?”

“Of course,” Malfoy scrunched up his nose and his smirk was softer, almost like a smile. “When it’s as big as mine is, it needs all the help it can get.”

“At least you are self-aware.”

Malfoy leaned back, head tilted upward and jaw far more defined than Harry remembered. “You want to get out of here?”

Harry was suspicious, and justifiably so.

“Are we going over the plan at your place?”

Malfoy’s fingers fidgeted against the table and Harry narrowed his eyes.

“I was thinking a bar.”

“You want to talk about the plan in a  _bar_? A public space?”

“No,” Malfoy wouldn’t look at him and  _that_ was unusual. “I was thinking we go to the bar and  _not_ talk about the plan at all.”

Harry walked forward and caged Malfoy in with his legs. “You want to spend time with me.”

“Not if you’re going to rub it in, I don’t.”

A grin stretched Harry’s lips as he leaned forward.

“I want you to ask me again.”

Malfoy glared as he tried to push him away.

“Forget about it.”

“No, no.” Harry refused to move. “I want to hear it again.”

“Do you want to go to a bar with me or not?”

“Not as kind but it’ll do.”

“I don’t like you,” Malfoy growled, but it lacked heat and when Harry returned the sentiment, he knew Malfoy could tell that he lacked heat too.

What did that mean? He didn’t know, but he was willing to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, feels like it's been a bit for the next chapter but since I've been posting every other day on Tumblr, I guess it hasn't lmao. But this new chapter is now caught up to Tumblr so it'll probably be another two mini updates before I post on here again. 
> 
> It's interesting for me because the first half of this chapter was full snark and sass but then the rest was soft. I had it spaced out in mini updates so I'm curious how seamless it seems or not. Might have to reread after it's posted. 
> 
> The kids I had a soft spot for, especially Cooper and Arty. I hoped you liked them and even more, I hope you like Harry's job. It made me tear up a little but you all knew I was a giant ass big baby.
> 
> I do hope you like this chapter, sass, snark and softness and all.
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	4. Maudlin Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been about a week since my last mini update on Tumblr which means it's been even longer since the update for here, sorry about that! Half of this was beta'd by the beautiful Snortinglaughter. All mistakes are mine
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“I’m assuming you want to go to a Muggle bar?”

The bitter tone surprised Harry enough that he paused half-way through locking the classroom door.

“Not if you don’t want to.”

He was confused. Malfoy was fine with the students, so why wouldn’t he be okay with Muggles?

The tip of Malfoy’s Oxfords rubbed against the wall and his confusion increased.

“If we go to a Wizard bar I’m going to be recognized.”

“So am I.”

Malfoy’s shoulders tensed before he looked up at the ceiling. Harry felt like he was missing something.

“People don’t want to be seen with me, Potter.”

His heart sunk and when Malfoy closed his eyes, Harry felt the urge to comfort him— _briefly_ —before he thought better of it.

“I do.”

A harsh scoff was his reply, and Malfoy still wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t pretend, I’m used to it. We can go to a Muggle bar.”  

When Malfoy tried to move past him, Harry pushed back until Malfoy was pressed against the wall and caged between a hand on each side of his head.

“I won’t pretend to know what you face every day,” Harry whispered. Malfoy’s eyes were on his chin and for some reason, that bothered him. He wanted Malfoy to  _look_ at him.

“I don’t know the things you have been told or will be told, but I meant what I said. I don’t mind being seen with you. If I did, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my fake boyfriend.”

“Unforeseen consequences can never be factored in,” Malfoy said softly, almost too softly. “Desires can cloud judgement.”

“You think being seen with you is compromising my judgement?”

Malfoy shrugged but said nothing, and  _that_ was the true sign that something was wrong. When did Malfoy ever stay silent?

“I don’t bring good headlines, I don’t bring good conversations, I don’t bring good energy and I surely don’t bring good company.”

“Who the fuck said that?”

When Malfoy’s shoulders tensed further, Harry knew.

“Nott said that, didn’t he?”

Malfoy tried to push Harry back, but he wouldn’t budge, not when it was all making sense.

“Potter—”

“He told me I was unattainable,” Harry muttered and when grey eyes  _finally_ glanced up, he couldn’t take it and looked away.

“Said that I was  _too_ good, put me on a higher standard, one that he never matched. I was suddenly something made to be seen—a prize. I couldn’t have bad days, I couldn’t be something other than what everyone  _always_  thinks of me.

“Do you know how restrictive that is? Society sees me as someone who saved them, they see someone who can’t do any wrong and to them, I  _am_  unattainable because they don’t know me, however badly they want to. I face that every day, and then I had to come home and face it too.”

Malfoy’s hand slid up Harry’s neck to grip his jaw hard enough to force him to look. No emotions but there was an intensity there, something he couldn’t look away from.

“Human nature is to mess up,” Malfoy whispered.

“I didn’t get to,” Harry said. “And the ironic part of it was that he said  _I_ made  _him_ feel like he couldn’t make mistakes, that  _I_ was the one who made him feel like he had to act perfect. I’ve never been perfect, Malfoy, never.”

“Oh, that, I do know.”

Harry’s shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh but he couldn’t withhold it.

“I want to be able to mess up,” Harry mumbled. “I want to be able to stumble and it be  _okay_. I want to be able to right wrongs instead of living a lie. Because who he saw wasn’t me and he refused to try at all.”

Malfoy let go of his jaw slowly, far too slowly to not take notice before he stepped forward and placed his forehead against Harry’s.

“You can’t always right a wrong, I should know,” Malfoy said, and he could feel Malfoy’s eyelashes press into his skin. “But you should be allowed to  _try_.”

“And  _you’re_ allowed to be who are wherever you want to.”

Malfoy arched a brow, almost as if it was a challenge. “Even if I’m crass, abrasive, blunt, and pessimistic?”

“I happen to like that about you.”

“You like something about me?” Malfoy teased and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Not anymore.”

Malfoy smirked but it was far softer than usual and  _very_ close to a smile.

“This fake relationship is full opposites,” Malfoy said. “I was never good enough and you were too good.”

Harry wanted to purse his lips, but they were too close for it to not cross some boundaries.

“Except the defining factors are from a right fucking bellend and we are more than his descriptions.”  

This time, there was no smirk, there was only a smile, but it was empowering to see, Harry thought. “Let’s define ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Malfoy murmured; voice still so soft. “I like that, I get to be the only voice that matters.”

“And hey,” Harry began as he stepped back. “I can always take some of your not good enough and you can have some of my too good—we’ll even each other out.”  

“I always wanted some good in me.” The sarcasm was teasing in a way, and he didn’t think Malfoy could be so intriguing.

“Oh?” Harry’s brows rose. “How deep?”

There was silence before Malfoy groaned and shoved him to the side.

“You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

“It was a serious question!” Harry yelled as he ran after Malfoy who had jogged to get away from him. “If Nott was right, and I do have too much good in me, then it’s just waiting to come out. I’m just saying that could go quite far—”

“I don’t want to hear about the length of your prick, Potter.”

“Does that mean you want to see it?”

He dodged a stinging hex only to yelp when he tripped over Malfoy’s strategically placed foot.

“I was just kidding!”

“You’re a real pain,” Malfoy growled, and Harry wondered if there was any fondness in it.

“Sometimes.”

“You also talk too much.”

“I always thought it was the opposite.”

Malfoy crossed his arms and arched a brow.

“You like to mess with me.”

_“That_ , I will agree to, spot on.”

He had to dodge another stinging hex, but it was worth it.

“So,” Harry said when Malfoy started walking again. “What kind of bar are we going to?”

Malfoy tensed and he almost wished he hadn’t asked.

“I figured we could go to the  _Three Broomsticks_.”

Pride. Harry was proud of Malfoy, and as weird as it was to be proud of his partner in crime, he was.

“Good, I can show you off then.”

Malfoy spun around and it caused Harry to almost run into him.

“Show me off?”

“You deserve that, Malfoy. You deserve to be treated right, and I don’t know how many shitty people you have been with but fake boyfriend or not, I have standards to uphold.”

“And if I don’t want that?”

“Then I won’t.”

Malfoy looked at him,  _really_ looked at him and Harry didn’t know what there was to see. Before he could say anything, Malfoy took his hand and the  _crack_ of an apparation surrounded him.

“You really need to stop that,” Harry snarled. “You’ll hurt me at this rate.”

Malfoy didn’t say anything; his hand was still gripping Harry’s and there was a peculiar look on his face.

“No, I know how to keep you safe.”

Keep  _him_ safe? “People look to me to protect them.”

“I don’t need protection, Potter.”

“And you think I do?”

“I think you’d like to not have to worry about protecting anyone. I think you’d like someone to look out for you instead.”

“Is that you offering?” The hold on his hand tightened.

“Maybe,” whispered Malfoy as he pulled Harry forward but continued to hold his hand as they walked down Hogsmeade. “A trade. You show me off and I take care of you.”

No one had really ever taken care of him before. Part of that was how others perceived him and also the status quo of feeling like he could never stop being responsible for everyone else.

“Weird fake relationship, huh?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy agreed. “Weird has always been taboo for me though.” Malfoy turned the handle of the  _Three Broomsticks_ , took a deep breath and pushed.

“I think it’s about time I change that, don’t you?”

A few heads turned toward the door on instinct, those that recognized them did a double take and he knew the news would spread like wildfire.

Malfoy chose stools at the bar versus a table and it was probably for the best if they wanted to avoid seeing all the stares, but confrontational wise, it wasn’t good—their backs were turned and undefended.

“What can I get for you boys?” Rosmerta asked, eyes narrowing on people behind them.

“Gin for me,” Harry said as the urge to turn around increased when her eyes narrowed further. He wasn’t stupid, he could tell it had to do with Malfoy.

“And for you, love?” Rosmerta asked as she slid Harry’s glass with no warning and some of the drink sloshed over the rim.

“Firewhisky.”

“My kind of guy.” There was a fondness to her that had certainly never been directed at Harry before, and he came in once a week!

“Add a splash of exploding ale, will you?” Malfoy called after her when she turned to leave.

Harry grimaced at the combination. Exploding ale was  _strong_.  

“Rough night?” Rosmerta asked over her shoulder, eyes on Malfoy. “I haven’t seen you drink that since you were nineteen.”

“What?” Harry looked between them. He hadn’t known they were friends. Malfoy  _had_ used an unforgivable on her.

“I wasn’t sure you remembered that,” Malfoy grabbed Harry’s glass and downed half of it. “You were drunk.”

“Hey!” Harry snatched his drink back and scooted away the best he could.

“I’m never drunk,” Rosmerta argued as she set down Malfoy’s glass. It was smoking and Harry didn’t trust it. Who combined exploding ale with  _anything_?

“What brings you here?” She continued, one hand on her hip. “You always make me see you at the club.”

“His strip club?” Harry asked, mouth an inch away from the rim.

“Why? I enjoy the ladies just as much as you would.” Her hands were crossed, and he raised his own in defeat. He hadn’t meant anything by it.

“I’m just curious is all.”

“What he means,” Malfoy drawled as his drink gave off several loud pops and liquid splashed outward. “Is that he’s nosy.”

“That too,” Harry agreed with a nod and a wink.

Rosmerta looked between them and for the first time in a while, she smiled.

“Draco worked for me one summer.”

“What?” Harry shook his head. “I didn’t know that.”

“It was right out of Hogwarts,” Malfoy shrugged. “Heard you took a year off to travel.”

“So you  _did_  read up on me,” Harry teased. When Malfoy’s ears turned pink again, he couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at his lips.

“It was in the papers, Potter. Front page, not like I could avoid your ugly mug if I wanted to.”

“Do you honestly believe the bullshit that comes out of your mouth, or just expect me to?”

Malfoy kicked him in the leg— _hard._

“You take what I give you.”

“Was that an innuendo? Or an order? Because I can take orders.”

“Potter,” Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, alright,” Harry conceded as he placed his chin on the heel of his palm. “Continue on.”

“I wanted to make amends,” Malfoy whispered as Rosmerta was flagged down for a refill by a patron. “I wasn’t sure she’d want to see me.”

“And she hired you?”

Malfoy snorted so harshly that Harry could see ripples in the Firewhisky, gross.

“She said if I was sorry, truly sorry, then I had to prove it. Scammed me into free labour, that’s what happened.”

“Free my arse,” Rosmerta yelled halfway down the bar. “You kept your tips.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because people were just  _dying_ to tip me.”

“Well,” She lifted her hands. “I got something out of it.”

“She taught me a lot,” Malfoy whispered as he watched Rosmerta fill several orders back to back easily. “I saw how much she puts into this place, the care, the love and seeing people give it back made me want that too.”

“And that somehow made you want to open a strip club?”

Malfoy smirked over the rim before he downed nearly all of it in one go. “No. I wanted a business, something that was mine, something my family had no claim over.”

“And?” Harry asked impatiently.

“There was a girl,” Malfoy placed the drink down with a scrunch of his nose. “She would stop by some nights after her shift at a Muggle strip club. I was curious enough to see a show after she invited me.”

“Was it how you thought it would be?”

“More.” Malfoy’s eyes lit up before he folded his arms on the counter and placed his head in the middle. “She sure could dance, Potter. Never saw anything like it before. I was fascinated. At first, I thought I was thinking with my prick, you know?”

“I didn’t know you were into girls too.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Malfoy tried to wink but he closed both eyes. Harry had to wonder if he was tipsy already.

“I asked her to teach me. It was hard, harder than it looks. The body strength required is more than it seems, you need to have stage presence and a charisma that draws people in. Some of it has to be natural and not learned.”

“Did you work with her? At the club?”

“Nah, I wanted to but the thought of what my father would say held me back.”  Malfoy glared and it made his nose scrunch up further. “But it was enough to make me  _want_ to do something. I never had that before. The urge for something that was my own interests.”

“That’s sad.”

“That’s life,” Malfoy tried to grab his drink but missed the first attempt. “I told my father I wanted to run my own business and he put me into business classes for it. My guess is he thought I wanted to do something to better the Malfoy name, or something that would somehow benefit him.”

That, Harry, could see. Lucius Malfoy was someone who only ever considered himself first.

“Right before I graduated with my business certificate, I pulled out the money from the Black Vault and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?”

“Regulus left me money,” Malfoy continued with a glare. “I always wondered why. I never even met him; I was just a baby when he disappeared.”

Regulus. The thought of him always hurt. Regulus was someone who got to right wrongs, but no one ever knew about it.

“It was enough for a deposit, and I pulled out a loan for the rest.”

Malfoy and a loan didn’t sound right to Harry. Oxymoron.

“Of course, my father found out,” Malfoy laughed hollowly. “Threw a fit and said he wouldn’t fund it. Came as a shock when I told him he wasn’t going to. I didn’t want a sickle from him. I told him he could disown me and show the world what kind of father he really was.”

Harry let out a whistle. As far as he knew, Lucius had never disowned Malfoy.

“Mother calmed him down, said to think of what people would say.”

Disgust was all Harry could feel. Some people shouldn’t have kids.

“That was her way of supporting me.”

It didn’t sound like it to him, but what did he know? “So he came around?”

Malfoy pounded the counter with his fist as he laughed. “Please. He would never. Sure, he offered to pay off my loan but I’m not stupid. I’d rather be in debt a million times over with the Goblins than to ever owe him a single thing.”

“Why?”

“Slytherins demand repayment for the things you never want to give up.”

Another riddle. Of course there was.

“Was it easy? Your business?”

“No.” Malfoy’s fists clenched. “People don’t respect what I do, what the people who work for me do and it can be hell. Sex work is a valid career and it doesn’t get the understanding we deserve and it sure as hell gets treated like a dirty secret. What kills me the most is that some of the people who say shit during the day are the very people who come see us at night.

“Took a few years but I got there, slowly and surely I got my business. Added a bar and used what Rosmerta taught me. I taught those who wanted to stop working the streets learn how to dance and I found a family among them all.”

“It sounds nice,” Harry whispered. “Finding family among co-workers.”

“You don’t have co-workers,” Malfoy’s forehead wrinkled.

“I know, why do you think I said it!”

“Do you think you’ll hire someone to help?”

Harry frowned at his empty glass. “With what money?”

Malfoy sat up suddenly, so sudden that he grabbed his head and let out a groan. He truly was a lightweight.

“Let’s petition the Wizengamot, or we could sue the Ministry. I like the second option better.”

“I’m not going to sue anyone,” Harry laughed. “You’re drunk.”

“I take offence to that.” Malfoy raised a finger but ended up inspecting it instead of whatever he was going to do with it. “And I said we, didn’t I? Or did I only think it?”

“No, you said we,” Harry said slowly. “I just assumed you meant me and was just drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” The protest came several beats too late and it helped his case none. “I meant we since you’re my boyfriend.”

“Is that so?”

Harry startled when he caught sight of, Turner, a reporter for the Prophet. “Go away.”

“Yeah,” Malfoy jabbed his finger but missed and hit Harry. “You write mean stuff and that’s not okay.”

Turner pulled out a quill and smiled unpleasantly. “Is that so, would you like to give a statement about that?”

“Yes,” Malfoy sat up straighter. “I would. I think you are a piece of—”

“No,” Harry interrupted with a hand in the air. “He has nothing to say to you and neither do I.”

Turner put away her quill with a huff and he knew that she’d not leave easily. “You both are public figures, Mister Potter, I’m doing my civic duty here.”

“Civic duty,” Harry scoffed. “It’s your duty to harass us?”

“I wouldn’t call it harassment.”

“I would,” Malfoy argued with eyes so narrowed Harry doubted he could see through them. “You wait outside my club and bombard my employees despite them asking not to.”

“Oh?” Harry crossed his arms. “His club is private property. You can’t do that.”

Turner leaned forward into Harry’s personal space and it made his skin crawl. “You think the Ministry cares about Malfoy or his club? With the things that happen there and who he is?”

“Piss off,” said Harry as he leaned away from her. His back hit Malfoy’s chest and arms wrapped around his stomach.

“Yeah, what Harry said.”

_Harry._  He almost jerked at his name coming from Malfoy.

Turner hummed as she stared at them. “Alright, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted.”

Malfoy snorted hard enough that Harry could feel the air hit his hair— _lovely_.

“I got what I wanted anyway.” It was a dramatic exit, but he didn’t expect anything else from someone who worked for the Prophet.

“Was that supposed to be foreboding?” Malfoy whispered.

The corner of Harry’s lips lifted as Malfoy began to rub his stomach. “Yeah, I think so. What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t have to look to know that Malfoy was frowning, it was audible in his voice. “Do you want me to stop?” The hand rubbing gentle circles on Harry’s stomach stopped.”

“No.” Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hand and moved it for him. “I don’t think so.”

“Alright.” The whisper was louder than it should have been, but Harry didn’t mind, not when he was comfortable—well, as comfortable as one could be stretched over a bar stool and half on top of someone else.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Harry asked after a pleasant silence.

“I said that to you,” Malfoy said, voice sleepy.

“You did.” Harry was horribly endeared. “Because you wanted to spend time with me.”

“Shh, don’t give away secrets.”

A grin tugged at his lips and he decided that tipsy Malfoy was alright. “I won’t.”

“Wait,” Malfoy said loud enough to make Harry jerk upward. “Does that mean you want to spend time with me?”

“Perhaps.”

“This doesn’t mean I want to see your cock.”

Harry laughed loudly and Malfoy’s arms tightened. “I wasn’t offering.”

“Oh.” It sounded disappointed and it would be nice if Malfoy could pick a side. “Then let’s go.”

“Malfoy wait—” Harry ended up sprawled on the floor when Malfoy tried to move them  _both._

“This is not how I imagined my night would turn out,” Harry whispered into the floor, but when Malfoy’s light airy laugh carried over, he thought it wasn’t so bad.

“I think you are the drunk one,” Malfoy said when Harry managed to pick himself up and drag them outside. “Drunk people fall over.”

“I love that you are ignoring that  _you_ were the one at fault.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

Malfoy preened and he didn’t have the heart to tell him it was sarcasm.

“Where are we going?” Malfoy asked when Harry directed them to the public floo sector on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. “The apparation points are the other direction.”

“We’re going to my place.”

A dramatic gasp could be heard before Malfoy came to a full stop. “You  _do_  want sex.”

“Will you quit?” Harry growled as he pulled Malfoy with him. “I promise to respect your virtues. You can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

“Is it nice?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!”

Maybe he should have just let Rosmerta handle Malfoy.

“Don’t throw up, please,” Harry warned as he stepped into the fireplace. “It won’t match the décor.”

“That was a joke,” Malfoy said when they landed. “A bad one.”

“Eat shit.”

“I preferred the arse one better.”

“I bet you do,” Harry teased but Malfoy wasn’t paying him any attention.

“You can sit on the couch or I can show you the guest bedroom. But first I have to make a firecall.”

“To who?”

“Now who is the nosy one?”

“Always been you, Potter.”

Harry ignored him as he threw in floo powder and waited for the connection to be approved on the other end. “We can’t let Turner be the only one to report on us. Her story can ruin the whole plan. Which you’d know that if you weren’t drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” Malfoy collapsed on the sofa, mouth pressed into the fabric and the whole sentence was muffled.

“Who are you getting to tell a different story?”

“The best reporter I know.”

“Harry!” The pleasant tone was familiar, and it brought a smile to his face.

“Luna, I’ve missed you.”

“Luna?” Malfoy’s muffled voice made it hard to hear him at all and Harry tried his best to ignore him. “As in  _Lovegood_?”

“Harry who else is with you?” Luna leaned forward as if that was going to help any.

“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a rough spot.”

“Are we talking Crumple-Horned Snorkack kind of trouble? Or Flying Heliopaths?”

“Is she drunk too?” Malfoy whispered; face barely lifted up as he squinted at the fireplace. “What’s a Heliopath? And why does it fly?”

“I thought you weren’t drunk,” Harry crossed his arms.

“I’m not, you are.”

“You’re drunk, Harry?”

Malfoy laughed, the sound was quiet, but it filled the room and Harry tried to resent him, really, he did, but it was hard with Malfoy’s lips curled upward and eyes closed. It was unusual to see Malfoy so carefree.

_“No.”_

“Fuck,” Malfoy cursed as he tried to get up, but his leg gave out and he plopped back down. “Bloody hell, your couch is broken.”

“Yeah,” Harry deadpanned. “It’s the couch’s fault.”

“You should check for Nargles,” Luna hummed. “They can infest furniture.”

“Nargles?” Malfoy jumped up, stance wobbly and Harry debated about helping him. “I don’t know what a Nargle is, but my skin is delicate.”

“Is that Malfoy?” Luna leaned forward again, and he was worried she’d tried to half-floo.

“Yes, unfortunately, it is.”

“You best recant, Potter. I am the best thing that’s happened to you.”

Harry snorted before it turned into a chuckle as he slapped his knee. “Man, you really are pissed.”

“How many times do I have to say I’m not?” Malfoy tried to sit next to Harry on the ground, but he tripped over his own feet and landed on Harry’s lap.

“Until I see evidence that you aren’t,” Harry mumbled, ready to throw him off but Malfoy shifted slightly in an attempt to get comfortable.

_“Oh,”_ Luna whispered. “No Nargles but Burrowing Amares instead.”

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Malfoy pointed at the fireplace. “I have no clue what you are talking about, but then again, I never did.”

A small smile crossed Luna’s face. “That’s alright. I always understood you.”

“Oh.” Malfoy rested his head against Harry’s shoulder as he wiggled his body as if uncomfortable.

“As you can see,” Harry gestured towards Malfoy the best he could. “Things are complicated.”

The smile spread as Luna shook her head slightly. “I don’t know about that, Harry. It doesn’t look complicated to me.”

If only she knew.

“You needed my help?”

Harry nodded as Malfoy wiggled again and dug deeper. A noise could be heard, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was. It sounded displeased but it  _was_ Malfoy after all.

“Do you remember last year when you were Turner’s source for her story on rare creatures?”

Luna’s face lit up, eyes wide and a smile to match. “Yes. She was quite rude, but her article did source me correctly.”

“That’s great,” Harry hedged, unsure about continuing. He adored Luna, he did, but he didn’t think she’d agree if she knew. “She’s going to want you to be her source again.”

“More creatures?” Luna sat back as the sound of rustling parchment carried over. “I have a list of magical creatures the Ministry refuses to admit are real, but I just  _know_ it’s by design.”

“Actually, no, it’s not creatures.”

A bummed, ‘oh’ was the response he got, and guilt began to simmer.

“Draco and I are together.”

“That’s my name,” Malfoy whispered, lips pressed against Harry’s neck. “Didn’t know you knew how to say it.”

“In a relationship,” he continued, pointedly ignoring Malfoy completely.

Luna said nothing but her eyes travelled over the both of them before they narrowed.

“Turner knows?”

“We ran into her tonight.”

“She’s mean,” Malfoy said as he began to wiggle again.

“Will you quit that?”

“I can’t, I’m not comfortable.”

“You can sit on the floor, you know.”

“I will  _not_!” The indignation was slightly slurred and held no intimidation whatsoever. “It’s the floor, Potter. That’s beneath me.”

“Literally.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny.”

“I think they are.”

“You also make dick jokes, so where do we go from there?”

“Funny ones.”

Malfoy sighed as he started to move restlessly  _again_.

“Your bony hips are hurting me.”

“I’ll show you bony.”

“Is that a dic—”

Malfoy lifted his head only to glare harshly, so harshly his forehead wrinkled and his nose scrunched up.

“Just hold me.”

“I—what?”

“You heard me, hold me.”

Harry tentatively wrapped his arms around Malfoy’s stomach and pulled him closer.

“That’s better,” Malfoy sighed and rested his head once more. “I can sleep now.”

“Sleep? No, you need to stay awake. Malfoy?  _Malfoy?_ ”

Silence. Malfoy said nothing and it wasn’t surprising. He never did anything he didn’t want to.

“What exactly is it you want me to do, Harry?”

When Harry looked back to the fire, Luna was still staring. He had her full attention, which wasn’t something he was used to. Luna always had several things happening at once—it made him nervous to be the sole focus.

“I want you to write about our relationship and I want you to claim to be the first to find out before you reached out to the Prophet.”

“People aren’t going to believe me.”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

Luna tilted her head in acknowledgement as her lips stretched into a sad smile.

“You don’t want to be believed,” she whispered, and he wondered what she was thinking.

Harry looked away as his hands began to fiddle with Malfoy’s robes. He wished the world took Luna seriously, wished people understood her, or bothered to try at all, but they didn’t. And as selfish as it was, he currently needed to rely on that.

“No, not right now I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll do it,” Luna said after a much too long pause. “On one condition.”

Harry peered up curiously and his arms tightened around Malfoy as he tried to sit up straighter. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know.” Her smile was no longer sad, and it softened into something more familiar. “That’s just who you are.”

Malfoy mumbled something in his sleep and ruined the mood, as he would have done while awake too.

“When you can, I want you to stop pretending.”

His head snapped up. Did she know that their relationship was fake?

“Stop pretending to yourself first, and then the rest will come naturally.”

“I wish your riddles weren’t frustrating,” Harry joked to cover up the uneasiness that settled. He didn’t think she was talking about Malfoy at all.

“You deserve to be happy in the world you helped save,” Luna said, eyes on something behind him. “But that’s not something that can happen until you see it too.”

“It’s not easy to do,” he admitted, eyes on the logs in the fire. “It’s easier to be what people want.”

“I don’t want that.”

Harry jerked at Malfoy’s voice and almost let go. “You didn’t even try to go to sleep, did you?” He could feel a smile pressed into his skin and it had him rolling his eyes.

“Your voice isn’t as soothing as I thought it would be.”

“You like my voice?” Harry teased as he tried to move enough to see Malfoy, but Malfoy wouldn’t budge and only clung tighter.

“It’s a little grating.”

“I think you’re full of it.”

“Well I think—”

“I don’t care what you think.”

“Don’t make me hex you, Potter.”

Drunk Malfoy doing wandless magic did not appeal to Harry  _at all_. He decided to let that one go; Malfoy could win that one.

“Listen to Lovegood.”

“Yeah? Why do you care?”

“I don’t know,” Malfoy whispered, voice barely audible with his lips still against Harry’s skin. “I just think you should.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

“Because I said so.”

Harry tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling only to laugh when Malfoy used the extra space to burrow further into his neck.

“You said you were good at taking orders.”

“That wasn’t quite what I meant,” Harry laughed. “I was thinking more about you telling me when to get on my—”

“That’s enough of  _that_.”

It wasn’t until Harry’s laugh grew louder that he could feel another smile pressed into his skin and it made him pause. Why did he find Malfoy endearing? Especially when the rest of him wanted to strangle Malfoy on a daily basis.

“I’ll work on it,” Harry looked at Luna, but he was really talking to the both of them. “It’s all I can offer.”

“It’s good enough for me.”

“Not for me,” Malfoy argued. “Maybe Lovegood believes things only on faith, but that’s stupid.”

Harry ignored him and thanked Luna for helping him out. “I appreciate it, we have plans and Turner would have ruined it.”

“I’m sure I’ll read about the fallout of these plans sometime soon?” Luna’s brow was arched and there was a peculiar twinkle in her eyes. He wondered just how much she knew.

“Only if we fail,” Malfoy yawned loudly in Harry’s ear. “I’m too good for that.”

“There his ego goes again.”

“Potter, on the other hand,” Malfoy said pointedly with a jab into Harry’s ribs. “He would be the cause of our failure.”

“That’s rude,” Harry argued. “I saved the world, didn’t I?”

“Exaggeration if you ask me. You saved maybe 10 percent.”

“It could have been more.”

“’Could haves’ aren’t facts and don’t count.”

There was a small sound from Luna’s end, but he couldn’t tell if it was laughter or just routine floo noises.

“I could have left you in the Room of Requirement.”

“You didn’t though, did you?”

“I could have.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Malfoy’s voice was so disgruntled and offended that Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“What makes you so sure I’d be the cause of our failure?”

“Because you’re too nice,” Malfoy whispered, and his fingers tightened on Harry’s collar briefly. “Far too kind for us to succeed.”

Silence stretched the longer Harry thought about it and he grew  _very_ uncomfortable. A quick glance towards the fireplace showed that Luna had checked out and it was probably for the best.

“Malfoy, what are you planning?” He was worried about the answer.

When Malfoy lifted his head up and leaned away, there was a guarded look in his eyes and a set to his jaw that didn’t bode well.

“Nothing good for Nott, that’s for sure.”

“Malfoy, I don’t know about—”

“Oh no,” Malfoy shook his head. “You don’t get to change your mind. You wanted this plan, and now it’s too late to back out. Lovegood and Turner’s reports will see to that.”

Harry’s interest in the plan had been laid out from the beginning with honesty and an openness that Malfoy never matched, and he was only now beginning to see how big of a mistake that was.

“If we fail—” he was cut off with a finger pressed to his lips.

“If we fail then the only casualty is your ring. Win or lose,  _my_ interest will be met.  _My_ plan is a success the moment I walk into that party.”

Silver eyes were narrowed and angry, and for the first time in a long time, Harry was worried for Nott.

Malfoy didn’t move his finger until he leaned forward and their noses were pressed together. The smell of Firewhisky was strong and it made Harry’s stomach clench.

“What are you going to do to him?”

“Revenge is what I do best, Potter.” One side of Malfoy’s mouth curled upward, and the smirk was menacing in a way he hadn’t seen since they were children. “I’m going to break him like he broke me, and it’ll be  _glorious._ ”

“Malfoy—”

Malfoy tsked and Harry’s uneasiness grew.

“Don’t go soft on me now. You reached out to  _me_ , don’t forget that.”

“I didn’t know—”

“Ignorance is never an excuse,” Malfoy snarled. “You knew who I was when you came to me. You knew what I was capable of and did it anyway. Don’t play clueless, don’t play the victim. Anything I do outside of the plan will reflect on you too.”

“I don’t like this,” Harry whispered. Nott was a bastard, one that broke his heart but that didn’t mean he wanted anything past getting his ring back. Revenge was what he loosely wanted, not the definition at its fullest.

“The beautiful thing is,” Malfoy trailed a finger up his arm. “You don’t have to. I’m going to do it regardless.”

Malfoy lightly tapped Harry’s cheek once before he stood up. It wasn’t graceful and he nearly toppled over, but despite that, Harry was still uneasy.

“I’m going to find that guest room you mentioned, and tomorrow, we are going to implement the next part of the plan. All you have to do is follow my orders, but you’re good at that, aren’t you?”

For being drunk, Malfoy was still a bastard.

“And maybe, we’ll find out about those knees of yours,” Malfoy winked over his shoulder before he was gone.

Harry groaned as he plopped onto the ground and peered up at the ceiling. Everything started to seem a lot more complicated than before, and  _that_ was saying something. Malfoy being able to infuriate him— possibly turn him on too—was a gift; one that he didn’t like.

Was it worth it? He bit his lip as he wondered what Malfoy’s end goal was. Was getting his ring back worth whatever would happen? Was it worth whatever Malfoy had planned?

He knew what he should say, knew what his friends would say and knew what his past self would say, but it didn’t change anything. Despite the worry, the unease and the uncertainty, he didn’t want to back out. What did that say about him?

What happens when polar opposite enemies aren’t so opposite after all?

_What did that say about him?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, drunk Draco is everything lmao. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you did too! I can't decide which part of this chapter was my favorite. Either drunk Draco, learning more about his business or the end. I had a lot of fun writing the end and had to restrain myself from doing more. What was your favorite part?
> 
> I will hopefully be back with more soon and just in case, you can always follow my tumblr for the mini updates, the next one should be done Friday or Saturday. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, let me know any thoughts!
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	5. Bandit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My baby @snortinglaughter looked this over for me. I love her.

**Harry Potter to Sue the Ministry with Ex-Death Eater Boyfriend?**

_Harry Potter, the Wizarding World hero, has a penchant for Slytherin men it would seem. Last night, lead reporter for the Daily Prophet, two-time award-winning Journalist of the Century, Melanie Turner, spotted Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy out on a date in Hogsmeade._

_Malfoy was adamant about suing the Ministry over a perceived slight against Potter. With the lack of integrity he possesses, one would not be surprised if he did. With the new policies and procedures the Ministry has in place, and their strict attitude towards change, Malfoy’s hatred for the Ministry shows his true character._

_Reliable inside sources have given insight into the unlikely duo. The start of their relationship has not been revealed but they seem to be relatively comfortable with each other. Hands had groped, lips too loose and smiles far too happy to be anything but real were seen._

_Potter has never been too bright, but some would wonder what he sees in Malfoy. Especially when one considers the type of disposition the latter has. Opposites attract, but we are all thinking the same thing; should they?_

_Will Potter sue the Ministry alongside his troubled boyfriend? How serious is their relationship and will it last? Neither Malfoy nor Potter was available for commentary so only time will tell._

**More speculations on page 3**

 –

“Never been bright?” Harry scowled at the paper before he balled it up and threw it behind him on the floor. Turner was up there with Skeeter as his least favourite reporters. The Quibbler and the Daily Prophet had arrived together, both foreboding enough to make him paranoid. He wasn’t sure what to expect with Luna’s report but knowing her, it would surely be an experience.

 –

**Harry Potter Taken in by Burrowing Amares and Fallen in Love?**

_Reports have been made that Harry Potter, most sought after Chocolate Frog Card owner, has recently fallen in love. The sources cited in those reports is none other than the Quibbler’s very own Luna Lovegood, Quibbler Journalist of The Year six times running._

_It’s unclear whether Burrowing Amares were spotted with the happy couple or not. Due to the nature of the energy they release into the atmosphere, the chances are high. The Ministry refuses to admit the validity of the intelligent creatures but their knowledge on the matter has been widely documented as sources inside the Department of Mysteries have alluded to over the years with subtle gestures and exaggerated winks._

_What the Ministry refuses to admit is, unfortunately, a list that would be too long to report on. Dacken Malfoy can attest to that if the rumours are true._

_Will the Ministry ever admit the existence of Burrowing Amares? Is the Minister a front for Muggle Aliens? Has Dacken fallen in love? What really is the cause of love outside emotional dependency?_

**Find out more on Page 5**

 –

Harry tried not to find it funny, he did, but, “Dacken.” Malfoy was  _not_ going to like that.

The sound of someone coming down the stairs had him leaning back in the kitchen chair to watch Malfoy enter the room.

“I’m going to kill Lovegood,” Malfoy grumbled, hair dishevelled, clothes the still mess from the night before. There was a red mark along his cheek, as if his hand had been pressed against his skin the whole night.

“Right after I kill this headache I have,” he finished with a yawn, arms stretched above his head. Harry was distracted by the way his hair stood up; it was almost like looking in a mirror.

“I don’t know, Dacken, I didn’t see anything wrong with the article.”

“I’ll kill you too.”

Harry didn’t doubt it, not with the way the temperature in the room spiked and Malfoy’s jaw tightened. It was chilling but way too amusing to back down.

“You don’t look that threatening to me, Malfoy.” He leaned forward across the table to where Malfoy was standing, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed.

“You’re lucky I need you,” Malfoy said as he plopped down on a chair with little to no grace. “Or I wouldn’t put up with you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

There was silence as Malfoy’s brows furrowed. “Why? Did we do something last night? I think I’d have remembered that, I remember everything else.” He cocked his head to the side and his forehead wrinkled. “My arse doesn’t hurt, so if we fucked you might need some Murtlap Essence, my girth can hurt.”

“No we didn’t—wait—Murtlap Essence? Just how big  _are_  you?”

“Ah, so we didn’t fuck.” Malfoy picked up the Daily Prophet, one side of his mouth quirked upward.

“No, really,” Harry pressed, far too curious for his own good. “How big—”

“You want to find out?” Malfoy peered over the top of the paper, eyes twinkling in a way that was new. “I can show you.”

“Erm,” Harry flushed as he looked down at the table.

“I promise I’ll bite.”

“That’s not how the saying goes.”

“What saying?” Malfoy frowned. “I’m into biting.”

Harry snorted. “Oh, well in that case, no.”

Malfoy pointedly raised the paper until it covered his face in what Harry assumed was a silent snub.

“I hate Turner,” Malfoy grumbled before he began muttering too quietly for him to hear.

“I imagine a lot of people do.”

“I can’t believe I threatened to sue the Ministry.”

“It was very sweet of you,” Harry said with a straight face as Malfoy bent one side of the paper over to glare at him.

“You really  _do_ want to protect me,” finished Harry with fluttering lashes and a hand on his cheek.

“I will break up with you.”

“Draco—”

“Whoa,” Malfoy held up a hand before he stood up to rummage through Harry’s fridge. “We are  _not_ on a first-name basis.”

“You were the one who said you weren’t sure if I knew it.”

“Sarcasm, please learn the definition.”

When Malfoy shut the fridge with a grimace and settled on toast, Harry pushed away from the table and caged him against the wall.

“I know the definition,” Harry whispered, pleased to see the surprise on Malfoy’s face. “How could I not around you?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“That I never know what’s real with you.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed briefly before they widened in a way that made Harry uneasy. Hands slowly—far too slowly to not be calculated—trailed up Harry’s stomach up to his neck where they intertwined tightly.

“That’s the beauty of liars,” Malfoy leaned up till his lips were pressed against Harry’s ear. “The truth is often laid out, but no one can ever see it.”

“Which one of us is supposed to be the liar?”

“Oh,” Malfoy exhaled deeply, the sound almost delighted. “Now  _that’s_ interesting.”

A bite to his ear had Harry jerking forward in surprise.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who likes biting.”

The warning sound of his floo went off but Harry’s focus was solely on Malfoy. He tried not to think of what else Malfoy would bite.

“You can call me by my name when I get what I want.”

He knew it was bait, he did, but he couldn’t help but ask, “And what do you want, Malfoy?”

The slow creepy grin on Malfoy’s face and the way his arms tightened around Harry’s neck was concerning.

“I want what I deserve.” Malfoy tilted his head back, lips moving along Harry’s skin in the process. “I want more than I deserve. I want everything. I want it all.”

“I might—” He shivered when Malfoy nipped at his throat. “I might be the saviour, but I can’t get you all that.”

“Then don’t call me by name, Potter. That’s an intimacy you haven’t earned.”

“Earned,” Harry repeated, the sound far more breathless than he intended.

“You like earning things?” The grin he had previously turned into a smirk and Harry definitely regretted saying anything. “You like being good?”

Harry tilted his head away from Malfoy’s wandering lips. He wasn’t going to respond, nope, not happening.

“I think you’re already good.”

_“Fuck.”_

A low chuckle, more air than anything could be heard, and it had Harry closing his eyes. Fuck Malfoy.

“You like praise,” Malfoy stated confidently, as if it were a fact. “I can work with that.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “You will not.”

The creepy grin was back, and it was ominous in the way that Harry wanted nothing to do with it.

The whoosh of the floo had him turning his head only for Malfoy to grip his chin and force it back.

“Maybe I’ll have you begging for it,” Malfoy’s teeth scraped his bottom lip and he wasn’t sure if it was a tease or if it was on purpose. “Maybe on your knees, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Yes, yes, he would. “No, I don’t—"

“Ah, fuck, not this shite again.”

The sound of Ron’s voice had Harry jumping slightly but he couldn’t move, not with the grip Malfoy had on him.

“Can you two do that elsewhere?”

“It’s my flat, Ron,” Harry said, eyes still on Malfoy as he tried to appear unaffected. The small quirk of Malfoy’s lips let him know he had failed.

“It’s not very hospitable,” Dean argued, and Harry knew that meant the rest of them were there too.

When Malfoy’s hands went lax, Harry was able to step back. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“What do you mean what are we doing here?” Neville asked as he sat on the couch, knees tucked underneath him.

“Where’s Finnigan?” Malfoy asked as he stepped beside Harry and wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“I told him we’d meet him at his house.” The satisfied smile on Neville’s face was enough to have Harry snorting.

The sound of the floo went off and out came a  _very_ frustrated Seamus.

“I want it to be known that I have the worst friends.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Ron asked, tone aghast. “We told you we’d meet here.”

“Liar,” Seamus pointed an accusatory finger at Ron before rounding on Neville. “I just know it was your idea.”

“It’s what you get for smoking my last batch of Belladonna leaves. You  _know_ how poisonous it is.”

Finnigan waved his hand back and forth. “I stippled most of that out.”

“That would still leave hallucinations,” Malfoy said. “Possibly leave you delirious too.”

“That’s the best part,” Seamus argued. “No one smokes Belladonna for their good health.”  

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Ron interjected, frown on his face and hands on his hips. “Your last check-up was pants, I told you to lay off—”

“Oh Merlin,” Seamus groaned as he collapsed on top of Neville. “I didn’t come here for another lecture.”

“What did you come here for?”

Seamus lifted his head to stare at Harry incredulously. “What do you mean? You told us to come.”

“What? No, I didn’t—”

They all turned toward Malfoy with varying degrees of annoyance.

“Now that you are all here,” Malfoy clapped his hands together. “How about we continue with the plan?”

“You could have just sent your own Patronus and we’d still have showed up,” Dean said with a yawn as he too sat on Neville.

“Oi, get off me!”

“There’s no fun in that, Thomas.”

“Can we make it quick?” Ron asked as he checked the time. “I’ve got a nap scheduled in about a half-hour.”

“No.”

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sure that will keep me up at night,” drawled Malfoy as he rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You know what’ll keep me up at night?” Seamus asked, still on top of Neville. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

Harry could feel the heat of Malfoy’s cheeks and he hated that it was endearing.

“My students helped style him.”

“Certainly looks like it.”

“I’ll have you know,” Malfoy sneered. “That bright colours are in this year.”

“Are they though?” Ron’s eyes were squinted, and doubt was all over his face.

“I’ll be sure to let my students know,” Harry said as he arched his brows. “They happen to adore Malfoy.”

“Did he confund them?”

“Finnigan, I will kill you.”

“Can we move this along?” Dean talked over whatever comeback Seamus came up with. “I don’t have any naps scheduled but I do have to be at the museum later.”

Harry cleared his throat when it looked like Malfoy wanted to keep arguing.

“Alright, Weasley, would you still happen to be a part of your wife’s Equality Movement?”

Ron narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, didn’t know you knew about it.”

“Every pureblood does,” Malfoy mumbled. “Usually, it’s made fun of in private.”

_“Charming.”_

“Your job for the party is recruitment.”

Ron looked around the room before he theatrically cleaned out his ears. “Pardon? You want me to recruit bigoted blood purists into an Equality Movement?”

“We both know no one will sign up for it.”

“Right, so why bother? Why waste my time?”

“You are a distraction,” Harry said with a little laugh. Malfoy was smart. “You get to harass them about their choices while we have the rest of you do something else.”

“Excellent,” Ron’s grin was bordering on a smirk and he almost worried for the people at the party.

“What about me?” Dean asked. “I can’t just be the person who brings in the painting.”

“I have something special for you, Thomas.”

“Oh God, why does that make me nervous?”

Malfoy pulled out his wand as he fished out a small box from his robe pocket. With a swish of the wand, the box expanded up to Harry’s thighs.

“What the hell is in that? It’s massive.”

“This is where I keep Bandit.”

“Bandit?” Neville asked warily as he clung to Seamus and Dean. “It sounds foreboding.”

The box required a key and Harry had to agree with Neville. What on earth needed to be locked in?

“Bandit isn’t as sweet as he looks, so don’t let him fool you.”

The warning had Harry taking several steps away.

“I keep him in here for his safety. The box is charmed on the inside, so no worries, he has all he needs.”

“But what exactly is he?”

Ron had his wand already raised and his other hand covering half of his face. Harry was tempted to pull out his wand too until Malfoy lifted a baby Niffler above his head.

“Oh, he’s so cute,” Harry cooed. “I want to pet him.”

“No,” Malfoy moved Bandit away from Harry. “I wouldn’t advise that. He doesn’t like people to see him.”

“See him?” Dean asked, head barely peeking over the top of the couch. “What do you—”

Bandit’s whole body started to change, and Harry couldn’t help but walk closer to investigate. The brown of his fur started to lighten in colour until it was a pale white that blended in with the wall.

Malfoy lowered Bandit to his stomach, where he cradled the Niffler in his arms and they all watched Bandit shift colours to match the gaudy robes. If one didn’t  _know_ that Bandit was there, it would be hard to spot.

“I’ve never seen a Niffler like that,” Neville pushed Seamus and Dean off him to the floor. “What happened to him?”

“He’s a special breed,” Malfoy tightened his hold on Bandit and Harry could have sworn he heard a low purring. “I got him off a Magical Breeder.”

“Which is illegal,” Ron threw his hands in the air. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I saved him, okay?” Malfoy sneered “He was bred with a Fire Chameleon and no one wanted him.”

“With good reason,” Neville backed away towards Ron. “Fire Chameleon’s are outlawed in Europe.”

“Bandit only hurts people I tell him to.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Ron said, eyes on Malfoy’s arms. “Honestly it makes your case worse.”

A low whine left Bandit before a puff of fire left his mouth, a mouth that they couldn’t see.

“Ahh,” Dean was already on the floor, but the fire caused him to rush backwards so fast he got tangled in Ron’s legs.

“Oh, he’s hungry.”

“For what?” Seamus asked curiously from his spot on the ground.

“Same as all Nifflers,” Malfoy said slowly, as if Seamus was stupid. “Plants are his favourite.”

“I’ve got a little garden out back,” Harry said, trying to ignore the way Ron looked between them with narrowed eyes. “He can find something to eat out there.”

“You hear that, Bandit?” Malfoy whispered. “Food is outside.”

When Malfoy lowered Bandit to the ground, Dean let out a little whimper. Bandit changed to a light brown to match the hardwood floor before he zoomed to the back door where Harry opened it wandlessly.  

“Hagrid would like him,” Harry mused. “Exactly the kind of animal he’d enjoy.”

“Oh really?” Malfoy asked, eyes a little brighter than before.

“That’s not a good thing,” Ron argued. “Any animal Hagrid is interested in, is one that should be kept at arm’s length.”

The light left Malfoy’s eyes and Harry kind of missed it.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with Bandit?” Dean asked, still on the ground and behind Ron’s legs. “And why me?”

“You, Thomas, are going to let him loose inside the party.”

_“What?”_

“Are you out of your mind?”

“He’s a Fire Chameleon!”

“He’s kind of cute though,” Seamus said, eyes on where Bandit had left. “In a dangerous sort of way.”

“See,” Harry pointed at Ron. “Hagrid would say the same thing.”

“That’s not helping, Harry.”

“Shut up all of you,” Malfoy yelled. “Tell me something. If any of you sorry lot were Aurors, and we steal the ring, how easy is it to come up with suspects?”

“I almost became an Auror,” Ron grumbled.

“But,” Malfoy continued, ignoring Ron completely. “If everyone there is stolen from, there is no obvious target. No one will know that Astoria was our main mission.”

“Wait,” Harry shook his head. “I didn’t want to steal from Greengrass in the first place and now you want us to steal from  _everyone_.”

“They’ll get it back,” Malfoy shrugged. “Mostly.”

“What do you mean  _mostly_?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, and do I get any of it?” Seamus asked curiously before Neville smacked him on the back of the head.

“Ow, you fucking—” Neville smacked him again and the two began pawing at each other. “I’m just saying, I’m not getting paid a whole lot and I could use—”

“No, Seamus,” Neville argued. “We aren’t keeping their shit.”

“I don’t like this,” Harry said. And he didn’t. It made him uncomfortable. Part of him still believed that if he talked to Greengrass, she might just give him the ring.

“Well, you are the one who wanted the ring back, you get to pay the price.”

Malfoy’s eyes were cold and familiar. They could talk about it later; he wasn’t done with the discussion  _at all_.

“Can Bandit steal without anyone noticing?” Dean asked as he stood up. “People are going to notice a fire breathing Niffler.”

“Not with the Chameleon blood in him,” Malfoy shook his head. “He doesn’t like to be stared at, the chameleon part of him kicks in on instinct the moment he is uncomfortable.”

“That only covers one aspect,” Neville argued. “Does he have experience stealing?”

Malfoy’s lips twitched and Harry was already concerned. “He might come to work with me.”

“You steal from your patrons?” Seamus’ mouth parted.

“Only the ones that refuse to tip my girls and are less than polite.”

“That’s—”

“Illegal, yes I know,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I think we’ve established by now that I’m not the best morally.”

“Have you ever had morals?”

Malfoy shot a stinging hex at Ron who yelped and rubbed his buttocks.

“Anyways,” Malfoy glared when Ron opened his mouth. “Bandit can do it and he can do it without getting caught. I’ve trained him to take more than just shiny things, he can wipe them clean.”

“Well, that’s just lovely. Remind me to never go to your club.”

“Who said you’d be allowed in Weasley? My club has standards.”

“Okay,” Harry held up his hands when Ron raised his wand. “That’s enough of  _that_.”

“If Ron is the distraction, Seamus is the entertainment and Dean releases Bandit, what’s my job?”

“Ah,” Malfoy’s brows wiggled. “You, Longbottom, are very important.”

Harry rolled his eyes when Neville puffed out his chest.

“The Party Planner’s chosen Herbologist company has conveniently fallen through and they are in need of some plants.”

“How convenient?” Ron crossed his arms.

Malfoy’s nose scrunched up with how wide his smirk was. “I have my ways.”

“Merlin, you are scary,” Seamus mumbled. “It’s hot, but scary.”

“What kind of plants?” Neville’s thumb rubbed his chin. “I mainly grow plants used in potions and sell them to Apothecaries. I have my own personal greenhouses but not a whole lot for a party.”

“I want plants that stink.”

Ron’s forehead wrinkled and Seamus’ head tilted to the side as a silence broke out.

“What?” Neville snorted. “You want me to provide ones that smell?”

“The stronger the smell, the better.”

“The only plant I can think of that would smell bad enough is Witch’s Ganglion. It’s usually found in swamps. I have a few in stasis charms for the wealthier clients, the ones that refuse to travel to get it.”

“Perfect.”

One of Neville’s eyes was closed as his teeth sucked on his bottom lip. “The problem is the climate difference causes the bulb of the plant to wither. Without a stasis charm, the bulb of the plant will release fumes that are bad for the body.”

“I know,” Malfoy said, face emotionless and tone serious. “I need it.”

“You want to poison them?” Dean asked aghast.

Neville waved a hand back and forth. “The effects of the fumes are mild. Only repeated exposure is worrying. I’d say the worst anyone at the party gets is a headache.”

Headache. Harry frowned, something was niggling at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t quite getting it. When he looked up to see Malfoy’s eyes boring into him, he felt like he  _should_ know.

“Which is why I also want you to provide peppermint plants.”

“Oh,” Neville’s shoulders relaxed. “That will ease most of the effects of the plant.”

If the peppermint would counteract the Witch’s Ganglion, then why have either plants in the first place? Something else was happening, only Harry couldn’t figure it out. But the way Malfoy was  _still_ staring at him made him want to find out.

“That’s all I have for you today,” Malfoy said, eyes still on Harry. “Any questions? No? Good, now leave.”

“Actually,” Seamus piped up with a mouth full of whatever liquid he carries in his flask. “I still am not sure about what I’m supposed to do for the entertainment.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“That’s not helpful.”

Malfoy shrugged. “Never said I would be.”

“Some master planner you are,” Seamus grumbled as he made his way to the floo. “I have to do everything around here.”

“Merlin help us if you ever plan  _anything_ ,” Neville said, stepping behind Seamus in the fireplace.

“That hurts, Neville. I’ve never been anything but kind to you.”

“ _Ha!_  That’s—”

Whatever it was, Harry wouldn’t be able to hear it as the floo turned green and the two of them were gone.

“You coming, Ron?” Dean asked over his shoulder, hand holding some floo powder. “We can stop at yours first if you’d like.”  

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“I’m going to go get Bandit,” Malfoy said with a curious glance towards Ron. “Be back in a minute.”

It wasn’t until the door shut behind Malfoy that Ron leaned against the fireplace and looked at Harry.

“Weird that Malfoy didn’t know you had a garden, huh?”

Harry looked at the ceiling as he debated what to do. He could admit the truth, but he didn’t want to hear the lecture, didn’t want to hear the reasons why it was all a bad idea.

“I spend a lot of nights at his place.”

“Do you?” Ron didn’t seem to buy it at all. “Not to mention Bandit came as a surprise to you.”

“Bandit is new, he would have told me eventually.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Is it supposed to?”

Ron huffed, head shaking and hands gripping his robes. “I’m trying to understand this; I am but it makes more sense that it’s all made up than to think you’d actually be with him.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s  _Malfoy_.”

“Yeah, the same Malfoy who is my boyfriend, my  _partner._ ”

“I don’t want to be rude—”

“Really? Could have fooled me,” Harry closed his eyes as his fingers clenched. He didn’t want to argue with Ron. Not over Malfoy. Not when he was lying, not when the whole situation was a mess.

“You don’t know him, Ron. Perhaps that’s on me, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t question my choices.”

“You like him?” Ron asked seriously. “You  _truly_  like him?”

Harry looked at his feet as he thought about Malfoy. There was so much to Malfoy that he was wary of, so much that he didn’t trust. But there was a lot that was appealing, a lot that made him curious and made him stop to think.

Malfoy was a prick, an egotistical one who thought of himself first. But he was also a prick who offered to help Harry with funding, one who was kind to his students and wasn’t afraid to make a fool of himself around them. He was a prick who drunkenly declared to sue the Ministry on his behalf and one that kept smiling into his skin. Malfoy was a whole lot of contradictions. There was a lot Harry didn’t like but then there was—

“Yeah, I think I might.”

Harry jumped when he felt an arm circle his waist and his cheeks pinked in embarrassment. Fuck. Malfoy was never going to let it go.

“I think it’s time you go, Weasley.”

“Harry—”

“It’s alright,” Harry peered up at Ron. “I get it.” He could tell Ron wanted to say something, possibly even apologize but Ron glanced at Malfoy before throwing in floo powder.

Ron took all the noise with him and all that remained was silence. One that was stifling.

“So,” Malfoy began with  _way_ too much enjoyment. “I caught the end of that discussion.”

“Drop it.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

Harry turned to look at Malfoy and a small squeak left Bandit the moment Harry looked at him too and now the Niffler was the exact shade of Malfoy’s robes.

“You like me?” Malfoy teased, a small quirk of lips drawing his attention.

“How do you know I wasn’t just saying that to get Ron off my back?”

“I don’t.” Malfoy began to pet Bandit and a small purr could be heard. “Could be both or neither for all I know.”

“And yet you are cocky already.”

“That’s me,” Malfoy’s brows wiggled. “Always cocky and confident.”

“You’re wrong, I don’t like you.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.” Malfoy’s eyes were bright.

“I don’t know if I care.”

Malfoy took a step forward and Harry tried not to be concerned about Bandit.

“Harry.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. “Why do you get to use my name, but I don’t get the same courtesy?”

“Do you want me to stop, Harry?” Malfoy grinned when Harry said nothing. Loud breathing could be heard, and he knew it was Bandit, the breath was hot on his arms, far too hot to be normal.

“We can do fair,” whispered Malfoy. “I’m not good at it, but if you don’t want me to, I’ll respect that.”

With Malfoy inching even closer, words were lost on him.

“Is that what you want?” Malfoy prompted. “You want me to stick to surnames?”

Did he?

“No,” Harry admitted. “I don’t.”

“Harry,” Malfoy breathed, eyelashes glittering in the sunlight.

“Stop that.”

“You like it.” A small smile accompanied the statement and Harry didn’t want it.

“Maybe.”

“I want to know what else you like.”

“Maybe you’ll have to earn it,” Harry repeated Malfoy’s words back to him. He had to look away from the knowing glint in Malfoy’s eyes.

“I think I just might do that,” Malfoy said before he shrunk Bandit’s box and put it away. “How about you come see me sometime at the club.”

Harry arched a brow. “You want to spend more time with me.”

“Maybe,” Malfoy shifted Bandit to his hip before making his way to the fireplace. “Or maybe I want to give you a private dance.”

Harry choked in surprise and all he heard was laughter as a flash of green signalled Malfoy’s departure.

What did he get himself into? And did he even want to get out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a little more than a week, hasn't it? I had fun with this update, although I've been having fun with all of them, haven't I? Ah well. Bandit was my favorite part but I am curious if he was yours too. I think Gigi would say the sexual tension was her fav. When she was beta'ing for me she was like, "No Ron, not right now" when he interrupted them lmaoo
> 
> I'm looking forward to the next part too. There isn't many parts left, actually. Getting closer to the party 👀👀 Part of the next part will be based on some art that someone drew which was inspired by this Draco. I finally was able to include that in my writing and I'm pumped. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought and I'll see you next time!
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	6. Glittery Denial

The line to get into the _Bare Sorcery_ was longer than Harry had expected. Malfoy had invited him—sort of—but he wasn’t sure if he was on any VIP lists.

The longer he waited, the more the conversations around him piqued his interest.

“I heard Shitter Dragon was performing tonight. Merlin, I can’t stand him.”

“Shut up,” A guy hissed, panic audible in the hushed whisper. “He’ll hear you. Sometimes I swear I can still feel the glitter burn.”

“No way,” A third voice boomed, and Harry turned curiously. “You got cursed by Glitter Dragon?”

Both men went silent, but he could tell they were embarrassed, and it made his interest that much stronger.

“I heard about a guy who whipped out his dick during a private dance and the man’s wife still complains about burning when they fuck.”

Harry opened his mouth to ask what and who they were talking about but a bored, “Next,” pulled his attention to the line. He smiled in what he hoped looked apologetic as he approached the bouncer. She was… something, that’s for sure.

The bouncer was tiny, barely five feet. Her brown eyes were vibrant in a way that _had_ to be magical; they were almost reflective, and he couldn’t look at them too long without his own hurting. What stood out the most was two large purple hissing snakes that sat on her shoulders, bodies wrapped around her throat.

_‘Why must we be where the water bags enter?’_

_‘Master must be protected.’_

“Name, ID and wand please.”

Harry tried to pay attention to her, but his focus was on the snakes.

_‘I do not care for the males much, some taste so bitter’_ A forked tongue slithered out as Harry stepped closer.

_‘This one does not reek.’_

_‘No, almost familial though.’_

“Hello?”

Annoyed snapping jerked Harry from staring at the snakes as he handed over his wand. “The name is Harry Potter.”

A loud snort from the bouncer had the snakes moving their head, as if they too found it funny.

“As if I haven’t heard that one before.”

Harry frowned as he pulled out his ID, one the Ministry sent out once a year. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. Do people impersonate me often?”

Her eyes widened at the name printed. “Well I’ll be damned.”

_‘Why do you not smell water bag?’_

His eyes flickered down at the snakes again. They were gorgeous, he had never come across purple snakes before. The dim light made their scales gleam.

“Don’t worry about them,” the bouncer said. “They aren’t the poisonous one.” An exaggerated smirk showed elongated fangs and her eyes grew even brighter.

Hiring a vampire as a bouncer _would_ be something Malfoy would do.

“You can call me Skrewt.”

Harry couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled. “As in Blast Ended Skrewt?”

The grin he got in return was unexpected. “First timer here, huh? You’ll notice a theme around here if you stick around long enough.”

“Any tips for a first timer then?”

“Keep your hands to yourself, tip generously, and respect the dancers or who knows what’ll happen to you.”

The underlying threat was there, and he had to give props to Malfoy for picking a great bouncer. Skrewt was intimidating with just a glance, let alone her words.

He was about to enter the door fully, but he paused to ask, “I’m here to see Malfoy, would you happen to know where he is?”

Skrewt stood up straighter and so did the snakes before she sized him up.

“You may have handled the Dark Lord, but I don’t know if you can handle Glitter.”

Glitter?

“I’d like to try.”

Skrewt’s eyes narrowed and he wasn’t sure what she was looking for. “But will you succeed?”

Harry looked down at the snakes as he whispered, _“I’d like to think so,”_ in parseltongue. The snakes weren’t the only ones who jerked. He left with a wink when Skrewt’s eyes widened and her mouth parted.

The place was crowded, hardly any room to walk through the tables and chairs. What drew his attention wasn’t the poles spread out around the club but rather the poles at the bar. Two poles were currently in use which would explain the increase in people near the counter.

Harry elbowed a few men who were only jeering and taking up too much space. “Excuse me,” he grit his teeth when he was pushed to the side as someone tried to get closer to the dancers. Clearly being polite was not a requirement in a strip club.

When he finally made it to the counter—several bruises to his ribs later—the bartender had his chin in his hands and an eyebrow quirked. It would seem Harry’s struggles amused him.

“Good morning,” The man said with a wink before he looked Harry up and down, _slowly_. Harry didn’t feel bad about returning the favour. A shock of deep purple, almost black hair drew his attention. The length covered most of his eyes and was jaggedly cut. Piercings covered both ears, there was too many to count and some of the shapes were unique—his favourite was a bat mid-flight.

“It’s nearly midnight.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” A dramatic hand to the forehead had Harry smiling. “I was late for my shift, just wanted to sleep in for once.”

Before Harry could ask, the man gave him another once over. People tended to give him second glances for who he is but not usually over looks.

“Glad I didn’t sleep in after all.”

Heat. He could feel his cheeks heat up and the way it made the bartender grin just had him flushing harder.

“I’d say you must tell all your patrons that but uh,” Harry grimaced as he looked around at the men still fighting to get closer to the girls. “You might have bad taste if that was the case.”

“Oh, I like you.” It wasn’t until a smile turned into a wide smirk that Harry could see sharp elongated fangs. “You can call me Thestral.”

Thestral. What was with the Magical Creature names?

“Harry.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Harry.”

“Is it though?” he teased back.

Thestral leaned forward as he moved his hair out of his face and under the dim lights Harry could see that his arms were shiny—an almost wet appearance—even his biceps, that a ripped shirt couldn’t contain, were gleaming. Thestral’s eyes weren’t like Skrewt’s, his were a deep magenta, nearly purple but oh so pretty.

“I could always make your experience more enjoyable,” Thestral lifted his brows briefly for emphasis.  

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

The urge to say yes was there, but subdued. If things were different, he’d have taken Thestral up on the offer. He knew exactly why he’d turn him down but owning up to that was another thing entirely. Denial sounded better than the truth.

“But?” Fluttering eyelashes and bitten lips were a temptation, but his desires were elsewhere.

“But he’s taken.”

They both straightened up at the sound of Malfoy’s voice. Harry looked around but he couldn’t see anything other than too much testosterone and very little hygiene care. A harsh touch to his arm jerked him forward.

The heel of a silver high-heel was digging into his arm. He glanced up, ready to tell the stripper to watch out but the words evaporated at the sight of Malfoy.

Malfoy was… ethereal. The silver heels were just as glittery as the glittered lotion Malfoy had on his whole body. The light reflected off the glitter and it almost made him appear angelic, if that’s what angels did in their spare time at least.

Harry wasn’t sure how long Malfoy had been dancing, but his clothes had already been taken off. No trousers or shirts, just short, tight, and nearly see through boxers. He couldn’t help but notice the Sectumsempra scars along Malfoy’s chest and his heart sank at the renewed guilt that never dissipated over the years.

Malfoy cocked his hip to the side, and Harry’s eyes followed the movement. Dancing did Malfoy wonders if the defined abs and narrow v-line were any indication.

Fuck. Harry was screwed, so screwed.  

“Morning, Glitter.”

“Thestral,” Draco only acknowledged him verbally, narrowed eyes on Harry. “I believe a few people need refills; you should get to that.”

“You know, if you two ever want a night of danger and ecstasy, I’m—”

“Perhaps another time.” There was an audible smile in Malfoy’s voice and _oh_ , Harry’s imagination went wild.

Thestral said nothing but he _did_ walk away far more cheerfully than before as he started to call out for new shots.

“Malfoy,”

Malfoy bent over until his face was just inches above Harry’s. “I had given up on thinking you’d come. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“My apologies,” Harry tilted his head up slightly, decreasing the distance between them. “I wasn’t sure if the offer had been real.”

“I don’t offer to dance for just anyone, Potter.”

“Harry.”

Malfoy shook his head slowly as a finger moved back and forth. “You made me wait so long that I’ve forgotten how to say your name. Earn it.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, something Malfoy _definitely_ noticed.

“Why must I earn everything with you?”

“So you can be good,” Malfoy’s raised finger came close to his face, almost touching but never managing it. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Harry closed his eyes. He wouldn’t respond, not like this, not in public with weird nosy men nearby.

“Eyes on me, Potter. Or you’ll never get what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“It’s all there in those pretty eyes of yours.”

When he opened his eyes Malfoy was already moving to sit on the counter, legs opened on either side of him.

“Nah, I like yours more.”

“Charmer.”

Harry couldn’t help but look at Malfoy’s body again. The glitter added emphasis to the overall look, and he appreciated it, however cliché it was.

“You like glitter?” It really was pretty, there was something about his skin combined with the silver that just sparkled. He wanted to run his fingers along Malfoy’s thighs and see how well it stayed put.

“Not really,” Malfoy’s eyes twinkled, and Harry felt like he was missing something. “But it serves me well.”

A snort in the background sounded like Thestral and that was when he _knew_ he was missing something.

“Can I touch you?” Harry asked, the itch to run his hands along Malfoy’s body too strong.

A soft smile stretched Malfoy’s lips and the glitter grew brighter, almost hurting Harry’s eyes.

“Hey!” A man next to Harry yelled and it caused him to jump a little. “I paid to see dancers on the poles, not flirting, get to dancing.”

The air around them grew hotter and Harry knew it was Malfoy. The twinkle and softness disappeared from his face and was replaced with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

“All my dancers are where they are supposed to be, I own the place so piss off.”

“I’m a paying—”

“Does it look like I care? Get lost.”

Harry turned in time to see the guy get closer, hand outstretched only for Malfoy to knock it to the side.

“Touch me and you’ll regret it.”

The man sneered before he slapped a hand on Malfoy’s thigh, _hard_ , the sound louder to his ears than it should have been. “All that feistiness could be used elsewhere.”

The sparkle and sheen to the glitter on Malfoy’s body grew dim, so dark that Harry leaned away. Smoke slowly extended from where the hand was still on Malfoy’s thigh before—

A shrieking yell from the man caused Harry to cover his ears, forehead pinched and a headache already forming.

When the man continued to yell, Harry looked over and his eyes widened at the burned hand. Blisters had already formed, and the skin was peeling in some areas.

“What did you do?” The man snarled as he cradled his hand to his chest.

“It’s a curse,” Thestral hissed at the now silent crowd.

Malfoy leaned back and propped himself on his hands behind his back. “If you touch me without my consent, the curse activates.”

“That’s illegal!”

“Is it?” Malfoy lifted one shoulder. “So is sexual harassment, but you didn’t care about that though, did you? Want to see who wins in court?”

“I’m not afraid of you!”

“It’s not me you should be afraid of,” Malfoy jerked his head towards the side and before the man could turn around fully, he was grabbed by Skrewt and lifted into the air.

“Guess I’m late taking out the trash,” Skrewt winked over her shoulder as she carried the man, one-handed with ease.

“Not as late as your brother for his shifts.”

“Hey!” Thestral yelled, hand frozen over a bottle of Firewhisky. “I was almost on time today.”

Malfoy waited until Skrewt went back to her post before he addressed the crowd. “I apologize for the interruption. Thestral, give everyone 1% off their drinks tonight.”

“1%?” Someone in the crowd grumbled as whispers broke out. “That’s nothing.”

“Thestral,” Malfoy smirked as he jumped off the bar. “Charge him double.”

“Wait! No! 1% is fine.”

When the music went up, the dancers went back to work, but Harry only had eyes for Malfoy, who leaned against the bar next to him, eyes on the room and the customers.

“What exactly was that? Was it _really_ a curse?”

“I created it,” Malfoy said. “You do what you have to, to survive. Sex work can pull in people who don’t have any regard to us or what we feel. I was sick of it. Sick of being touched, sick of people acting like my body was theirs as long as they throw some galleons my way.”

The glitter on his body was still dark and the magic surrounding Malfoy was heady and concentrated.

“They don’t own me, and they certainly don’t get to _touch_ me.”

“How long does the curse last?”

“As long as I want it to.” There was a wicked smirk on Malfoy’s face, and it was a reminder not to cross him. _Whew._

“Does the glitter always burn?” Harry couldn’t help himself. He was too curious. “Would it have burned me too?”

When Malfoy faced him fully, the glitter had returned to the very bright state it had been in before the incident.

“No,” Malfoy shook his head. “It wouldn’t have harmed you.”

“If it’s touch—”

“The curse only affects non-consensual touches.”

“I don’t—”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I wanted your touch.”

That shut him up.

“I wanted your hands on me, Harry.” It was whispered unnecessarily sensual and ended with a lip bite and lingering eyes.

_Fuck._

“What do you think about that?” Malfoy placed a hand near Harry’s face, but didn’t touch him, _again._ “Would you like that? Do you want to touch me?”

_“Yes.”_ Denial took a step aside for lust.

“I believe I owe you a private dance,” Malfoy said, coming even closer. The softness from earlier hadn’t returned, but he was a lot calmer.

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to,” Malfoy whispered. “What if I want you to see me?”

Strength was not as related to bravery as people thought. When it came to this, came to Malfoy, he had none.

“Alright, show me.”

Malfoy held out his hand and Harry took the offer easily, far too eager than he should have been. He ignored the stares as he was led through the crowd and into an empty side room. There was a lone chair in the centre of the room, right in front of two poles that were just a few feet apart.

With a snap of Malfoy’s fingers, music could be heard. It was a slow beat, one that his hips had no trouble moving in synch to.

Malfoy bent over, arse pressed right against the pole, but his eyes were on Harry, lit up with _something—_ excitement perhaps?

“I like dancing,” Malfoy whispered as he extended one hand above his head and used that to lift his lower body off the ground. The flex of his shoulders showed veins and the strength alone got to Harry.

Malfoy started to inch up the poll, body still angled away as both hands began to pull him to the top. One leg lowered to wrap around the poll before he dropped halfway down, body twirling effortlessly in way too many spins to count.

“It’s freeing,” Malfoy continued, eyes closed, and mouth curved into a small smile. “I don’t have to do anything other than let my body speak for itself.”

When Malfoy lifted his legs to wrap around the pole and he simultaneously dropped backward, hands grabbing hold underneath him in an upside down position, Harry’s mind blanked. Malfoy’s hands remained firm, but his legs began to extend downward, towards his head.

“What do you think it’s saying, hm?” Malfoy asked as his hands slowly continued to pull him down the pole. When Harry didn’t immediately reply, a low tsk could be heard. “You’re supposed to be good for me, Potter. That means answering me.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but it got lost in thought when Malfoy stilled just a few feet from the ground.

“What a pity,” Malfoy murmured before his legs slowly lifted in a way that bent him in half, still upside down. It didn’t look comfortable but before Harry could say something, Malfoy’s legs continued to move forward until they reached the ground and he was now upright.

“I can stop.”

_“No,”_ Harry said quickly, without shame. “Don’t stop.”

Fingers tapped the pole, and heels clinked against the ground as Malfoy walked around the pole slowly, eyes narrowed on Harry.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Harry took a deep breath, unable to uncross the boundaries that were about to be broken.

“I’ll be good for you.”

“I know you will.”

Malfoy continued to circle the pole and the anticipation was getting to Harry. A few steps back before Malfoy leaped, one leg bent in front of an outstretched one as a lone arm grabbed a hold of the pole and swung. The speed was too fast, it matched the music where the tempo increased dramatically, and Malfoy was a blur as he twirled and twirled and _twirled_.

When both of his legs stretched downward and Malfoy’s back arched, Harry’s lips parted. He was breath-taking. The strain of the movements had his stomach flexed, abs fully on display and it was enough to get Harry half hard.

The speed in which Malfoy moved increased but his body went horizontal as another hand grabbed hold of the pole. It was a transition, that much he could tell but the build-up had his breath coming in slower.

A gasp escaped him when Malfoy lifted his hands, letting go completely mid spin only to jump to the second pole a few feet away. Hands grabbed hold only inches from the bottom as Malfoy was once again upside down, one leg wrapped around the pole and body still twirling.

The music changed to a slow tempo, even the bass was subdued which Malfoy matched perfectly—body moving leisurely but sensuously.

“What do you think my body is saying?” Malfoy’s voice was so soft it was barely heard over the music. He watched Malfoy lower both legs before he once again moved them forward until he was flipped upward, only he kept going—legs sliding along the ground until the final product was the splits and the music stopped completely.

“I don’t think your body is saying anything.”

Malfoy frowned as he rested his back against the pole, his breathing was quicker, chest moving rapidly and sweat rolling down his chest.

“Not really,” Harry continued. “If so it’s by proxy. Dancing isn’t the only time you feel free, you _are_ free and you up there is a reflection of that.”

“You think I’m free?” Malfoy’s head tilted back, elongating his neck.

“Freer than you’ve ever been before.”

“How is it you know that? How is it you know so much about me?”

Harry shook his head slowly despite Malfoy not being able to see it. “I don’t. I know myself and I think at times we are similar.”

A harsh snort had him rolling his eyes.

“We are nothing alike, Potter.”

“Our differences say otherwise.”

“Differences, huh?” Malfoy stood up, arms stretched above his head as he slowly walked forward, heels loud in the now silence.

“We have a lot of those,” he whispered before stopping in front of Harry. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” Fuck yes. “Please.”

“Polite.” Legs straddled Harry and his eyes immediately were on bare sparkled thighs. “I like that in a man.”

Praise—however indirect it was—gave Harry goose bumps and he hoped he didn’t appear as affected as he was.

“Earlier you said you liked my eyes,” Malfoy began as his arse settled firmly on Harry’s lap. “Would you like to know what I first thought of when I laid eyes on you all those years ago in Madam Maulkins?”

Not really. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to delve into all _that_ with Malfoy on top of him.

“I thought you could be my friend. Didn’t have many of those.”

Harry closed his eyes, any hard-ons deflating. So they were doing it, they were going to talk about it all.

“Kind of botched that, huh?” Malfoy asked, one side of his lips curved. “Want to know what I thought when I first saw you on the train?”

Not really.

“I knew I’d walk out of that compartment with either a new friend or an enemy.” A hand trailed up Harry’s chest to rest comfortably on his neck.  

“We both know how that turned out,” mumbled Harry.

“Want to know what I first thought when I saw you that night in the bathroom?”

“No,” Harry shook his head rapidly. _No_. “I don’t—” A finger to his lips almost made him whimper. He didn’t want to talk about _that._

Malfoy’s face loomed closer and the hand around his throat moved to his jaw keeping Harry in place.

“I thought ‘I’m going to die here, and it’ll be deserved.’”

“No, it was a mis—”

The finger returned but it came with Malfoy’s lips pressed on top. 

“You like to save people, Potter.” It was muffled, lips still pressed tightly. “Only saving me meant putting others at risk. We both knew I was going to keep harming them, I was going to keep being reckless. I was hurting others. Me or them. They were safe as long as I was dying.”

Harry tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t. Malfoy had been 16, a teenager. One that hadn’t deserved the spell.

“I knew I wasn’t saveable, but they were and me bleeding out on the ground was going to ensure no one else would be harmed by my hands.”

Harry wiggled his head back and forth enough to jostle Malfoy’s finger. “A kid, you were just a kid.”

“A kid who was willing to kill, Potter. Never forget that.”

Harry didn’t want to have this conversation, of all the places. What was the point? Why now?

“Do you want to know what I first thought when I saw Hagrid carry your body back from the forest?”

“No.”

“I thought that it was the end. I was really going to have to live with my mistakes forever, and not only that, but I’d have to continue to make mistakes. Because once you get the dark mark, you’re in his grasp for life. Either your life or his.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You thought I was dead, and you were worried about _you_?”

Malfoy snorted and he really wanted to hate him.

“I also thought about you. You had just saved me and there you were limp and immobile. I wondered what kind of karma you had from a past life to give you such a shitty current one.”

It was Harry’s turn to snort, and he let Malfoy put his hands back on his face.

“Do you want to know what I first thought when I saw you the night you slammed the door in my face?”

No. Merlin, no.

“I thought maybe you could save me,” Malfoy whispered, and his voice was choked. “I knew he liked you, I could see it in his eyes when he spoke of you. He had never looked at me like that. I thought maybe if I explained to you how much he meant to me that you’d leave us be. I finally had someone who didn’t care that I was a Death Eater, someone that didn’t care how tarnished I was. I thought that maybe you could save my failing relationship if you just walked away. I just wanted to talk.”

Malfoy blinked rapidly before he blew out a harsh breath.

“Nott was a charmer,” Harry whispered as he wiped Malfoy’s eyes. “I knew he was flirting, and I knew he was with you, but I never wanted to come in between any of that. When I saw you that night, I knew it would change things and I didn’t want to be the cause. I didn’t want to be a part of whatever drama it was going to entail.”

“It hurt,” Malfoy admitted as he jerked his face away from Harry’s hands. “I was losing him to you, and you didn’t even care.”

“I didn’t know. Not really.”

“And if you had?”

“I don’t know.” Harry hated to say it, but it was true. He didn’t know what he would have done. “I was so lonely back then, I just wanted someone to be there for me. If I had known your relationship was that bad, I’d like to think I’d have just cut off contact and let it play out. But I truly don’t know, and I hate that I don’t.”

“Do you want to know what I thought when I saw you in my club for the first time?”

“I already know,” Harry said as he rubbed circles into Malfoy’s side, hoping it came off as comforting, and _that_ was a first for sure. “You hated me.”

“Oh no,” Malfoy shook his head a small smirk on his lips. “I _loathed_ you. Despised you. I wanted to curse your balls off. I wanted to—”

“I think that’s enough of that.”

The smirk grew and Harry realized that it was just as nice as his smile.

Malfoy’s hands fell to his lap as he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “Do you want to know what I thought when I saw you teaching?”

“Tell me.”

“I thought it suited you. Giving all you can plus some into helping others. How noble it is, how that Gryffindor trait never left. That’s when I wasn’t sure what was happening.”

Harry’s forehead pinched as he tried to peer into Malfoy’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

Malfoy shook his head and he knew that there would be no explanation. Vague as ever.

“Do you want to know what I thought when I saw you tonight?”

_“Yes.”_

“I thought of how much of a conundrum you are. How you irritate the living shit out of me but then you make me smile and I don’t know what to do with that. You confuse me and I don’t like you, but I like to see you and that makes me even more confused.”

Harry lifted his face enough to rub his nose against Malfoys. “I’m not sure I like you either.”

Malfoy leaned to the side to lay his head in the crook of Harry’s neck and he could feel a smile pressed into his skin.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Harry said as he wrapped his arms around Malfoy’s waist. “You confuse me too.”

“It does actually,” murmured Malfoy. “Even footing ground and all.”

“We’re two confused people who don’t really like each other.”

“Fake couple of the year, huh?” Malfoy teased and the smile in his voice was just as present as the one Harry could feel on his skin.  

“Fake,” Harry whispered. “Yeah.”

“Oh no, don’t even think that, Harry.”

“I like when you call me that.”

Malfoy sat up straight, arse moving against Harry’s trainers. “What else do you like?” Fluttering eyelashes were for show but when Malfoy bit his lip, he groaned.

“You’re going to give me whiplash. You had me half hard earlier and now you—”

“Only half?” Malfoy sighed; the disappointment obvious. “I can do better than that.”

“Is that a game you really want to play?”

“I don’t play anything I can’t win,” Malfoy challenged, eyes twinkling and that was something he wanted to keep seeing. The light in his eyes was beautiful. “And I _really_ want to play you.”

Fuck.

“Is that wise?”

“Do you care?”

“No.” He didn’t. He really didn’t. “I might tomorrow but I don’t tonight.”

Malfoy placed his hands on the back of Harry’s chair as he lifted up enough to roll his body, grinding effortlessly.

Harry’s hips moved on instinct, another groan on the tip of his tongue. “As hot as you look right now, I don’t want to come in my pants.”

“What if I want you to? You going to do as I say?”

Harry closed his eyes on a particularly hard body roll. The strength was gone, and he knew he’d listen. He’d do whatever Malfoy wanted.

“We can leave, go to your place.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh uh,” Malfoy tsked, hips stilling. “If you want that, then beg for it. Go on, I’m feeling generous.”

“Please.”

“Hmm,” Malfoy trailed fingers along Harry’s cheek before resting on the corner of his lips. “Do better.”

He wanted to roll his eyes but there was a look, a fiery look in Malfoy’s eyes and he didn’t feel like crossing him.

“Please, Malfoy, _please_. Let’s get out of here.”

“If we do, are you going to let me play with you? However I want?”

“Anything. Anything you want.”

The air around them grew heady and the energy of Malfoy’s magic was palpable. Clearly he was just as affected.

“You shouldn’t offer what you can’t afford to give.”

Harry’s lids felt heavy and he knew it was a combination of too much magic in the air and Malfoy’s presence entirely.

“What if I want to give you all of it anyway?”

Malfoy closed his eyes, a smile stretching his lips and he let out a barely-there moan. “I can take a lot, are you sure about that?”

“Take it,” Harry said as he parted his lips and sucked in one of Malfoy’s fingers. “Take me.”

“Fuck.” And for the first time, it wasn’t Harry thinking it.

Malfoy pulled his hand away and stood up quickly. “Let’s go before I change my mind and we put on a show for the customers.”

“That would be a headline for the Prophet.”

He placed a hand on Malfoy’s extended one and was promptly pulled out of the room.

“I have to let Thestral know that he’s in charge for the rest of the night.” Malfoy craned his neck to peer over the crowd. “Wait by Skrewt for me.”

As Harry made his way toward the front door, he noticed a lot more looks than he had gotten before they had gone into the private room.

“Hey,” a hand on Harry’s arm stilled him. He arched his brows at a man he had never seen before. The guy was tall, taller than him and had far more muscle mass.

“Glitter gave me a private dance last week.”

“Okay?” Harry shrugged, unsure why he was supposed to care. “And? It’s his job.”

The guy puffed out his chest, a hand moving to run his fingers through his hair. “I’m just saying. I saw your _boy toy_ naked. Tucked galleons into his tight pants too.”

Harry folded his arms across his chest as he arched his brows. “And I thank you for that.”

“Huh?”

“The money you give my ‘boy toy’ goes to spoiling me, so thank you for that. Much appreciated.”

“I—”

“Nice talk,” Harry winked, and he left before the guy could get upset. He wasn’t going to stick around with muscles like that.

Skrewt had her back against the wall, eyebrows already raised when he approached her. “Rumour is that you had a private dance.”

“That I did.”

“I’m not sure I buy it.”

Before Harry could ask why or even defend himself, she kept going.

“Also, hate to break it to you, but you’re more of a boytoy than he is.”

“Hey—”

“I don’t know about boy toy,” came a familiar drawl that Harry had come to appreciate. An arm wrapped around his waist and it was comforting. “Boy? No. Toy? Yes, but mine.”

Skrewt let out a low whistle. “Well I’ll be damned, Potter. You really can handle him.”

Malfoy elbowed Harry in the ribs and he let out an ‘oof’ of surprise. “We’ll see about that. Enjoy your night, Skrewt.”

“Wait,” Skrewt yelled when they were already outside. “You’re leaving early? You never—”

_“Good night, Skrewt.”_

His tone was final, and it didn’t surprise Harry that she didn’t say anything else.

“So,” Harry began, tone teasing and light.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“I’m just saying—”

The crack of an apparation cut him off and Harry waited until they landed before he shoved Malfoy’s arm off him.

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?”

There was no smirk, no twinkle to his eyes as Malfoy looked at him. But there was an openness to him that Harry knew was rare.

“However long you want.”

Harry rubbed the heel of his shoe into the ground and he knew his ears were red. “Maybe we can keep doing it?”

“Let me in, Harry.”

That was when he realized they were at his flat and not Malfoy’s. The words were reverberating inside his head. Let him in. It was more than just inviting him inside, it meant more, it had to of. Right? Did he want to let Malfoy in?

As Harry waved his wand, wards registering his magic and the door unlocking, he realized that he already had. Malfoy was already in and he wasn’t sure if he wanted him to leave.

“Come in.” Harry pushed open the door, arm extended in an invitation. When Malfoy walked by, he went out of his way to brush up against him.

“Nice place you have.”

“You’ve been here before.”

“You could have played along,” Malfoy frowned, and it was endearing. “Maybe my fantasies are of us meeting after years of no contact to have passionate sex and never see each other again.”

His stomach lurched suddenly, and he didn’t like that. That wasn’t one of his fantasies.

“Any other fantasies?” Harry asked, steering away from that completely.

Malfoy looked him up and down _slowly_. “I hadn’t given it much thought to be honest. But I kind of liked what Thestral was saying.”

“I’m not opposed,” Harry murmured, pulling Malfoy closer. “Another time.”

When Harry leaned forward, ready to kiss him, Malfoy tilted his head and the kiss landed on his jaw.

“Nuh uh, not yet.”

“Yet?” Harry’s brows furrowed and part of him wanted to argue.

“There’s a power imbalance here,” Malfoy gestured to Harry’s clothes. “I’m nearly naked.”

“What if I like it like that?”

When Malfoy arched a low brow, Harry knew he was pushing it. “Alright, alright.” He trailed his eyes along Malfoy’s chest and the urge to vanish his clothes was strong, but why do that when he could tease instead?

Harry started to take off his trainers first but went at half the normal speed. He was about to untie the last one when Malfoy’s biting tone stilled him.

“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to do it for you, and you won’t like the repercussions.”

The thing about Gryffindors was the reckless desire to go against orders. Harry’s body wanted to listen, oh boy did it, but his mind however— “Make me.”

Silence. It was foreboding, but before he could look up—“Oof”—he was knocked over flat on his back. Malfoy straddled him; arse turned towards his face.

“Not really a punishment, is it?”

He was ignored as Malfoy pulled off his trainers and socks. Hands pressed against his legs and Harry could feel the heat coming from them. When he looked down, his trousers were vanished.

“Hey, I better get those back!”

One look from Malfoy over his shoulder shut him up. Malfoy with the authority was something else, he liked it.

“Lay there for me, will you?”

“Don’t really have a choice, do I?” He mumbled to himself as Malfoy turned and faced him, legs still on either side of him.

Hands toyed with the bottom of his shirt and a brush of fingertips on his skin had him sucking in a sharp breath.

“Like that?”

“Mmh.” His eyes closed as the fingers inched further. Light circles were rubbed into his stomach and it was just as soothing as it was sensual.

“I asked you a question, Potter.” The fingers pressed down on his stomach, hard and Harry’s eyes snapped open.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I like it.”

Malfoy pulled the shirt halfway up before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his happy trail.

“Fuck.”

More kisses were pressed into his skin as Malfoy moved around his lower stomach. Some were open mouthed, others closed lipped, and even just parted lips and warm breath. It made him wonder what it would be like to kiss him. He wanted to feel those lips on his own.

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

Harry’s fists clenched and he almost wanted to push Malfoy off of him.

“Why not?” Did he not want to be kissed? Too personal? What they were doing was pretty personal already.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like the repercussions.”

Harry groaned, hands smacking the ground. “Please? Please kiss me.”

Malfoy looked up, tongue pausing mid lick of his barely-there, nearly non-existent abs. A brow was arched, and he hated how hot it all looked.

“Begging is a nice touch,” Malfoy said before he pressed more open-mouthed kisses onto his stomach. “Keep that in mind for later.”

 Later. Did that mean he’d get to kiss him later? Before he could ask, Malfoy vanished his shirt too.

“Are you sensitive?” The question preceded a pinch to his nipples and Harry arched on instinct.

“Not really.”

“Oh?” There was a challenge there, not just in his tone but his face too and Harry wanted to lose already.

“Let’s find out.” There was a ghost of a smile on his face but before he could focus on that, Malfoy leaned forward and paused, mouth parted over one of his nipples.

When Malfoy didn’t do anything but stare, Harry grew impatient and he _knew_ that was intended.

“Well?”

A puff of air had his hands twitching and he just wanted Malfoy’s mouth on him. Frustration mounted the longer Malfoy toyed with him.

“Please.”

A tongue circled his nipple and Harry sucked in a sharp breath. _Yes._ That’s what he wanted. More. He needed more.

“More.”

When Malfoy’s lips _finally_ closed around his nipple, he couldn’t help the loud keen that escaped him. Sometimes he liked to play with himself, but it wasn’t the same. Never could match the sensations.

“Seem pretty sensitive to me,” Malfoy hummed, and the vibration was enough to make him half hard. 

Before Harry could respond, the free hand that had been roaming his chest turned to nails scratching and he groaned loudly.

“I like hearing you,” Malfoy whispered, eyes closed and face serene. “I like making you feel good.”

“Can you make my dick feel good too?”

“Shut up,” Malfoy snorted, forehead resting on Harry’s chest as his shoulders shook. “Why am I laughing during sex? Only you.”

Only you. Harry liked the sound of that. Too much.

“What if I want to make you feel good too?” Harry asked as Malfoy’s hand moved down his chest and passed his stomach to toy with the band of his boxers.

“Nuh uh,” Malfoy shook his head. “Not yet. I get off on pleasuring people. I like it.”

Oh. He’d never had a partner quite like that before. He was used to giving too.

“So be good for me and let me pleasure you.” Malfoy’s voice was low in pitch and it did things to him. He really wanted to suck a dick.

More heat and Harry knew his boxers had been vanished too. Before he could reiterate that he wanted his clothes safely returned, a hand wrapped around his cock and his mind blanked.

“Thick, I like that,” Malfoy said with a twist of his hand.

_“Ngh.”_

“Articulate, I like that too,” Malfoy teased as he slid down Harry’s body.

As quick as the hand had arrived, it was gone. Harry lifted his head in time to see Malfoy trail his fingers along his cock, the light touches weren’t enough, but it was at least _something_. When a finger touched the tip, Harry’s eyes closed, the touch was feather light and he wanted more.

“Malfoy.”

“Harry.” The low, nearly growl of his name had his hips thrusting upward and getting the pressure he desired.

“Needy,” Malfoy tsked. “Can’t even wait for me to play. You did say I could.”

A huff left Harry as he consciously had to keep his hips still. “Sorry, I’m not used to this.”

Malfoy frowned as his hand wrapped around his dick again, and he wanted to thrust again. “What do you mean? Foreplay isn’t your thing?”

“No it’s not th—” A gasp as Malfoy’s hand tightened and his head turned to the side to hide the bitten lip. “It’s not that. Foreplay for me has been quick, you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

He was hard, and it was beginning to hurt. “I want you.”

Malfoy lowered his head, lips a breath away from the tip of his cock. “Mutual, Harry. You’ll get me.”

A tongue came out to play and Harry held his breath, hoping that he’d get more. Malfoy’s tongue was skilled, he was sure of it, but he was so far-gone that no skill would have felt good.

“Is that now? Or is it—” He moaned low and long when Malfoy’s mouth wrapped around him. There was no holding it back now. Not when it felt too good, not when Malfoy began a steady pace.

A hand began to work more than Malfoy’s mouth before his lips popped off and the hand continued to jerk him. “I’d deep throat you but my gag reflex is too strong.”

As if Harry cared about that. He didn’t care what Malfoy did to him as long as he put his mouth back on him. And he told him so too. The grin he got in return would have been butterfly worthy in any other situation, but all his mind could think of was how good that mouth felt on him.

He lowered a hand to Malfoy’s head but didn’t push. Malfoy definitely didn’t do anything he didn’t want to; he was content with waiting.

Harry bit his lip hard when Malfoy took him in halfway in one go. His fingers pushed through Malfoy’s hair. He had always wondered how soft it was. Turns out, very.

“Can I?” A swirl of Malfoy’s tongue had him pausing. When Malfoy’s eyes met his own, he could see the arched brows and tried to ask again.

“Can I fuck your mouth?”

Malfoy moaned, eyes closing, hair ruffled, lips shining, mouth full of cock, and Harry had never seen anything hotter.

“I won’t go deep.” It was supposed to be a reassurance, but it sounded like begging.

He got affirmation in a half nod from Malfoy and that was all he needed before he gripped Malfoy’s head harder and thrusted up. The noise Malfoy let out wasn’t a groan, it was half surprised wet moan and it caused his cock to twitch.

“Fuck,” Harry swore. “You look so good.” A red flush appeared on Malfoy’s cheeks and he wondered if Malfoy liked praise too.

Stamina was something his ego prided itself on. But the longer he used Malfoy’s mouth, the less that stamina was going to hold up. Not with the way Malfoy looked.

Just when he thought he had a hold on it, his stamina was shot to hell when Malfoy’s hands reached out to cup his balls. Harry had to lift Malfoy’s head off of him and take several deep breaths.

“I wasn’t done.”

“I would have been,” he panted. “You have a strong gag reflex and I have a long refractory period. I’d be out for hours.”

“Then we have to make it count.” Malfoy’s brow quirked briefly before he stood up, hand extended and boxers vanishing along with his heel with a snap. Harry’s eyes focussed on Malfoy’s cock, half hard, prominent veins and it made his mind wander—perhaps he had some fantasies after all.

“Let me suck you off,” Harry said as he let Malfoy pull him up. He gestured towards the right room. “I want to.”

Their hands entwined as Malfoy led the way into his own bedroom and it made Harry’s lips twitch.

“Oh, you will,” Malfoy winked at him, eyes bright and a slow quirk of his lips. “But it’ll be after you fuck me, after you’ve come and _then_ I’ll finish in your mouth.”

Harry paused at the foot of the bed. “Does the order matter? How we finish?” Was Malfoy saying that only because he had mentioned having a long refractory period?

There was a light dusting of pink on Malfoy’s cheeks and it made him want to run his fingers across the skin and feel the heat for himself.

“I told you, I get off on pleasuring others. I want to see you finish; I want to be able to _feel_ you enjoy it.”

_“Oh,”_ Harry breathed as he gave in to the urge to touch Malfoy, hand cupping one cheek. Silver eyes traced his face and he wished he could see what Malfoy did.

“Can I kiss you yet?” He asked, eyes on the pink sheen to Malfoy’s lips. They were plump, parted and calling his name.

“No.” Eyes still on his lips, Harry hated the way they smirked. “Soon.”

Before he could ask when that was, he was pushed backward on the bed and Malfoy was climbing on top of him. “You like this position? Seem to favour it.”

“I’d like it even more if I was sitting on your face.”

The mental images alone were enough to fuel a slew of fantasies for when it was just him and his right hand. He wanted that, wanted to feel Malfoy caging in his head with his thighs, wanted to fuck him with his tongue and see what sounds he could pull from Malfoy.

“But not tonight,” Malfoy finished as he started to kiss his clavicle, tongue following each press of his lips before light marks were sucked into Harry’s skin.

He wanted to object, wanted to make it worth Malfoy’s while but the kisses grew harder as they travelled to his neck and he lost focus. His mind blanked completely when a tongue toyed with his earlobe before nibbling it softly, eyes closing on instinct as the quick burst of pleasure hit.

A light kiss was pressed to his cheek and it was so out of character that he blinked rapidly, eyes on Malfoy’s serene face. Another kiss to his forehead, then his nose, and back to his cheek.

“What are you doing?”

Lips on his chin, jaw and even the corner of his mouth. “Kissing everywhere but where you want it.”

“That’s evil,” said Harry, a pleased sigh leaving his lips the more Malfoy’s parted lips touched his face. “I’ve already begged for it.”

“Not nearly enough.”

“What more can I—” Malfoy bit his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and Harry’s cock twitched. “Please,” he whispered, lips a breath away from each other.

“Please what?” Malfoy’s nose rubbed against Harry’s cheek before he pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “What is it you want?”

“Kiss me.” His hands balled into fists the longer Malfoy refused him and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it. “I want it, _please_.”

Malfoy stared into his eyes as he leaned down, mouth so close to his that Harry wanted to close the gap and—

“Do you want to know what I first thought when I saw you defend me against that idiot tonight?”

“I—now? You want to talk about that _now_?”

The distance between them lessened and his fingers twitched from the restraint it took to not reach out and grab a hold of Malfoy.

“I wanted to kiss you,” Malfoy rubbed their noses together and he could feel fluttering eyelashes against his own. They were close, so close but it still wasn’t enough. “I wanted to snog you right there in the club.”  

“Why didn’t you?”

“If I was going to kiss you, I wanted it to not be in a room full of horny men who have no sense of personal space. I like my privacy and oh boy, did I want you in private.”

“Then do it,” Harry challenged, fingers rising to Malfoy’s lips, softly tracing them. “I can beg again, I can—”

Malfoy’s hand covered his, keeping his fingers in place as he leaned down and pressed his lips against Harry’s. A small noise that he refused to admit was a moan left him when Malfoy parted his lips. He knew it would never be enough, not when he finally got what he wanted. The way Malfoy’s lips felt against his as they moved, teeth nibbling, tongues touching and a chemistry that was undeniable.

Addicted. Harry was already addicted. “More,” he whispered when they parted. “I want more of you.”

A low laugh, more airy than anything, was his response as Malfoy kissed him again and again and _again._

“I’ll kiss you all night,” Malfoy promised. “But after, after I know what it’s like to have you. Let me have you.”

_“Yes.”_

Hands travelled down to his cock that had softened slightly and stroked him back to full hardness. He couldn’t arch his back, not with the way Malfoy was sitting on him but his muscles tensed and the restraint of movement itself was a turn on. The things he’d let Malfoy do to him.

“I’m going to ride you, Harry,” Malfoy whispered, breath warm and tickling against his ear. “But first, I’m going to finger myself and you’re going to watch me.”

“Always a show with you.”

A smile was pressed into his skin and it was familiar. “Most definitely. I like when people watch me, you should know this by now.”

“Do you have any lube potions?”

“Er,” Harry reached into his bedside drawer. “I have a muggle made one. I was never good at potions.”

“I can teach you.”

“I’m more interested in what else you can teach me.”

Malfoy took the lube from his hands in an exaggeratedly slow manner as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and his tongue licked his lips.

“I’ll teach you patience first,” he teased before he turned around, arse near in the air and Harry wanted to touch, wanted to feel Malfoy.

 The cap of the lube clicked, and Harry was already tense. When Malfoy reached a slick finger behind him and began to circle his rim, Harry groaned.

“See?” Malfoy’s breath hitched when the tip of his finger entered him. “You lack patience.”

“Gryffindor thing.”

“No, it’s a you thing.”

“Can you go deeper?” Harry didn’t care that it proved Malfoy’s point. He was hard, _so hard_.

“For you?” Malfoy went slower, finger barely going in halfway and Harry’s hands went to Malfoy’s arse and squeezed.

Malfoy turned his head to the side the best he could to glower. “No touching.”

“You didn’t _say_ not to.”

“Keep your hands to yourself and I’ll give you what you want.”

He was suspicious. Trusting Malfoy was _never_ a good idea, but his brain was only half active with Malfoy’s arse so close to his face. He’d probably sign over his will if Malfoy asked for it mid-fuck.  Harry removed his hands and slumped back on his pillow.

Immediately the teasing finger went in knuckle deep, followed by another one.

“Been awhile,” Malfoy whispered before he pulled his fingers nearly out of him only to thrust back in— _hard._ “Fuck, that’s good.”

He could do better, but as he watched Malfoy set a steady pace, he wondered if he’d ever get a chance to prove it.

“I like to be fingered,” Malfoy said, back arched and head thrown back. “My favourite part. I just know you’d do a good job.”

The praise made him want to prove himself that much more, he wanted to replace Malfoy’s fingers with his own.

“Makes me wonder what else you’ll do good. Will you fuck me good, Harry?”

“Yes.” He had to grip his sheets to stop from touching Malfoy again. “I will. Let me—I—”

“Shh,” Malfoy soothed, one hand rubbing Harry’s leg. “I know you will.”

“I could come like this.” A particularly hard thrust had Malfoy moaning and Harry wanted to see it, wanted to see Malfoy finish. “Would you like that? Knowing I could finish, and you can’t touch me?”

His mind wanted to say no, but his heart and dick weren’t of the same belief. “Yes.”

Harry lifted his head when it looked like Malfoy might come but instead, Malfoy’s fingers were removed.

“Another time, perhaps,” said Malfoy as he turned around, a generous amount of lube in his hand.

“That’s a lot of ‘another times’,” Harry mused, eyes on Malfoy’s hand. His cock was ready for it, he had _been_ ready and all it seemed that Malfoy could do was tease.

“Only if you want.” It was barely audible, and he wondered if Malfoy was worried about the answer.

“I want.”

Malfoy didn’t reply but he did wrap his lubed hand around Harry’s cock and the touch was enough that precome pooled at the tip.

“Same rules,” Malfoy warned as he settled over Harry’s dick. “Don’t touch.”

“But—” All thoughts left as Malfoy sunk down and he moaned loud and long at finally getting what he wanted.

“But what?” Malfoy challenged as he rocked back and forth driving Harry’s cock further into him.

“I want to feel you.”

Malfoy’s eyes closed when Harry was as deep as he could go. “Feel me around you?” When he didn’t reply, Malfoy clenched and Harry arched as best as he could, hips thrusting.

“Mm,” Malfoy placed his hands on Harry’s chest. “I’ve missed this.”

Harry placed his frustration at not being able to grab Malfoy’s hips into matching the pace Malfoy set up, hips rising with each thrust downward.

“Getting fucked?” He panted, hard to concentrate on anything with the blissed-out expression on Malfoy’s face. Merlin nothing would match that.

Something shifted in Malfoy’s eyes and it was enough of a change that his hips slowed down and it was only Malfoy’s movements that kept them going.

Malfoy didn’t reply but he did lean down—hips grinding instead of bouncing—to kiss him. Harry’s hands raised, itching to cup Malfoy’s face but he resisted.

“I can’t go hard like this,” Harry whispered as he tried to thrust, but the lack of grasp made it difficult, he needed to touch, to grip, to hold.

“You don’t need to,” Malfoy countered, lips brushing against his. When he sat up, hands back on Harry’s chest, the pace increased but it was still maddeningly soft. “You wanted to feel, so feel.”

Harry’s eyes closed when Malfoy clenched around him again. His hips continued to match the pace with each grind Malfoy did.

Dizzying. Being with Malfoy was always an experience but this? Harry’s eyes were on the way Malfoy moved, just as beautiful now as when dancing. The arch of his back, the parted lips, the glitter still on his body that shone so brightly.

“Beautiful.”

The parted lips stretched into a smile and it took his breath away.

Soft wasn’t what he was used to. Harry’s partners were usually fast-paced with a roughness that matched, but they also lacked the headiness that he was getting now. He was intoxicated, with each swivel of Malfoy’s hips his mind blanked further.

“I want to see you come,” Malfoy whispered, eyes on Harry’s face. “I want to feel it.”

Harry shook his head, he was close, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. He needed more, he needed—

“Touch me.”

It was a demand, one that Harry wasn’t going to refuse. His hands flew to Malfoy’s waist and _finally_ gripped him tight. With the leverage that he had, he thrust into Malfoy harder and was rewarded with low moans that made his spine tingle.

“Just like that,” Malfoy panted.

One of Harry’s hands moved up Malfoy’s body and caressed his skin. With permission to touch in place, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

Malfoy’s hands moved upward on Harry’s chest and he mirrored the action. When Malfoy pinched a nipple, Harry gasped, arching into Malfoy and he knew he wouldn’t last.

_“Malfoy.”_

“Again,” Malfoy pinched harder and a slew of curses left Harry’s mouth. “Say it again.”

_“Malfoy.”_

“Harry.”

That did it. “I’m going—”

“Yes,” Malfoy’s voice had an odd lilt to it and his were zeroed in on Harry’s face, narrowed and moving rapidly. “Come, Harry.”

Another pinch to his nipples and his back arched as he came, hips thrusting quickly and Malfoy’s name on his lips.

“Fuck,” Malfoy breathed, voice hitched, and face twisted in pleasure.

“Come here,” whispered Harry, hands on Malfoy’s arse as he guided him forward.

Even desperate to come, Malfoy still had a grace to him as he slid his cock in Harry’s mouth.

Oral wasn’t something everyone liked to do, but Harry loved it. Loved seeing his partners lose themselves in the feeling and Malfoy was no exception.

“I knew your mouth had to be good for something.”

Harry narrowed his eyes as he slapped Malfoy’s arse. The moan that succeeded it surprised him. So he did again.

“Fuck, harder.”

Malfoy may have had a strong gag reflex, but Harry didn’t. He swallowed around Malfoy and spanked him at the same time.

“Harry,” Malfoy shuddered, hand rising to pinch his own nipple.

That was hot. One time with Malfoy and he knew he’d have wank material for life.

“I’m close.”

Harry pulled Malfoy closer, urging him to fuck his face. When Malfoy got the hint, a loud curse left him before he thrusted in, _hard_. Malfoy never did go all the way to the base, but it was close. His mouth was full, and he had missed that, missed the strain when stretching to accommodate.

“One more.”

Harry’s hand slapped on instinct and Malfoy threw his head back, mouth parted on a groan as he came. Seeing the ecstasy on his face was enough to make Harry see how Malfoy could get off on pleasuring others. It was hot, his refractory period not even enough to get his dick twitching, but he could understand it.

When Malfoy waved a hand, and Harry felt a cleaning charm wash over him, he performed his own, only targeting his mouth. He may like sucking dick, but not the taste of come.

“I’ll have to use the bathroom,” Malfoy said as he leaned forward until he was laying on Harry’s chest, head tucked into his neck. “Cleaning charms only do so much.”

Harry ran his fingers through Malfoy’s hair and the action caused a smile pressed to his skin. “Would you like company?”

“Rain check?” Malfoy offered. “Maybe in the morning?”

He already knew his morning was going to start out well, being with Malfoy in the shower would lead to needing another one. He let Malfoy go and watched him head to the bathroom, eyes on his red arse.

In the silence of the room, his thoughts raced. What now? He knew they both enjoyed themselves, that much was obvious. There were no regrets on his end, but he did wonder what Malfoy was thinking. As far as sex went, it had been something on another level. Sex and intimacy don’t always go hand in hand, and they hadn’t really had much intimacy before that. But during, Harry couldn’t help but feel like there had been a touch of intimacy, and intimacy he didn’t know if they should explore.

His thoughts slowed the longer Malfoy was gone and by the time he returned, Harry was nearly asleep.

“You need better shampoo.”

“Buy you some,” Harry mumbled, eyes already closed when he felt a dip in the bed and a warmth that he missed.

He could hear Malfoy complaining in hushed grumbles, but he didn’t have the energy to banter. Something was niggling in the back of his mind and it was keeping him from falling under.

“Malfoy,” Harry whispered as he turned on his side, to see Malfoy already staring at him. They were inches apart. “All night you’ve told me what you were thinking when you laid eyes on me, do it again.”

“Hm?” An arched brow and a fond look were the courage to keep pressing.

“When we were fucking and you said you that you missed ‘this’, you never answered me, and I was wondering what you were thinking.”

Malfoy looked away and there was a guarded look on his face, he didn’t like it.

“Another time.”

Disappointment filled him but Harry let it go when Malfoy whispered, “But I can keep telling you what I think, if you’d like?”

“Any time?” Harry teased and he let Malfoy pull him into his arms.

“Any time,” Malfoy promised as his arms tightened his arms and the last thing Harry thought of as he fell asleep was that it was nice to be the one being held.

Perhaps they could do it more often.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know it's been a hot minute since I've updated, but I come bearing a 10k update and I think that makes up for it. Baby Z was my beta today and for that I am incredibly grateful and I adore you so much. I'd like to thank Gigi the loml for helping me in so many areas with this update, whether it was name ideas, plot help or just cheerleading. Love them both. 
> 
> I did a lot of research into routines. I watched so so so many stripper routines, whether it was every day stuff or competitions. It was by far the best research ever, whewww, could watch that again and again. There may be times where it's hard to visualize some of his movements, and for that I am sorry. I had it looked over and even changed some of the harder to visualize things to make it easier. I do hope the final product was easy to grasp. 
> 
> I hope you liked the update, I'm not sure which part was my favorite. I loved the club stuff but I also liked the intimacy. Let me know what you thought and I'll see you guys soon 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	7. Anxious Thoughts

Harry was already sitting at the kitchen table when Malfoy walked in; hair ruffled, eyes half-closed, glitter still all over his body and a pair of trousers that looked exactly like the one in his drawers.

“Morning.”

“It’s too early to be up.”

“It’s nearly noon.”

“What’s your point?” Malfoy glared with one eye as he sat down, head resting in the crook of his arm. “I rarely make it home before the sun rises. Had enough trouble falling asleep last night, too damn early.”

“How long did you stay up?”

“A long time.”

Harry narrowed his eyes when Malfoy looked away. “What did you do while I was sleeping?”

“Stared at you.”

He blinked a few times before— _“What the fuck?”_

It wasn’t until Malfoy’s shoulders shook that Harry realized he was taking the piss.

“I contemplated life,” Malfoy began with a shrug and a ghost of a smile. “Thought about human existence, wondered where the elements come from when we summon them, whether there’s an afterlife, pictured Nott’s face when we walk into the party tomorrow,  wondered if Lovegood was right about love being caused by emotional dependency, no seriously where does fire come from when we summon it?”

“I—” Harry shook his head. “That’s a lot to process.”

“You asked.”

“I don’t know if there’s an afterlife, Nott’s face will be one to remember, Luna has been known to be wise before so who knows. As for the elements, aren’t they already existing when we use them?”

“Ah,” Malfoy lifted his head, eyes bright and wide. “That actually poses an interesting question. We are told in school that summoning charms summon what is already there, but they never specify how exactly that happens. Summoning water in areas there is none still works. So my theory is that it takes water from an existing area outside of the given perimeter.”

It had been a long time since Harry had to think about the theory of spells, that had never been his strongest point. He thought back to his lessons with Hermione on summoning charms.

“Distance affects summoning charms though.”

“So they  _say_ ,” Malfoy emphasized with his hands gesturing wildly. “If distance truly matters,  _where do the elements come from when none is around?_ ”

“Are we really talking about conspiracy theories at the kitchen table?”

“Do you have a better place?”

A huff of laughter left Harry as he considered what his life had choices had come to. Listening to Malfoy talk about his rambling late-night thoughts was honestly one of his highlights to his week—and wasn’t that just strange?

“Alright,” he conceded, hands raised. “Tell me more.”

The smile he got in return was just as bright as Malfoy’s eyes and he was momentarily at a loss for words.  _That_ had never been directed at him before.

“I think that elemental magic  _must_ be different than summoning nearby objects. My theory is—”

The sound of the floo cut Malfoy off and the smile turned into a frown that Harry wanted to smooth out.

“If you all left me behind again—” Seamus yelled before he fully stepped out of the fireplace. “I’ll— _wait_ , I’m the first one?”  

A flash of green could be seen behind Seamus as Harry snorted at the confused tilt of his lips and furrowed brows.

“Move over, you’re blocking the path you knob.” Ron’s voice was subdued but still audible.

“And if I don’t?” Seamus challenged.

Ron unsheathed his wand and a hexing charm hit Seamus in the arse.

“Ow, you fucking—”

“Oi!” Neville yelled when Ron exited the fireplace and he landed. “Which one of you clogged up the floo? I had to try twice.”

“Ron.”

“Seamus.”

Neville’s lips twisted in disgust as he looked between them. “How is it you both left your maturity back in Hogwarts?”

“Oi!” Ron and Seamus cried at the same time.

“What about you?” Seamus returned; arms folded over his chest. “Last night you replaced my Tentacula leaves with dried kelp.”

“You mean  _my_ Tentacula leaves,” Neville pointed a finger at him as Dean existed the floo, confusion already on his face as he looked around. “I knew you were going to smoke them, so I gave you a reason not to.”

“The kelp was from fresh seawater! That burned!”

“That’s pretty cunning.”

The four of them froze before they looked to Malfoy, who had spoken. Neville looked unsure about being complimented by Malfoy, again, and that was amusing to Harry.

“Did you alter their appearance any? Or is Finnigan that inept to not notice?”

“He’s too inept.”

“That’s an insult, I just know it is.”

Malfoy placed a hand over his face as his shoulders shook and he snorted.

“What are you wearing?” Ron asked, nose wrinkled and eyes on Malfoy’s bare chest.

“I think you mean what aren’t you wearing, mate,” Seamus mumbled.

“No, I—you know what, never-mind.”  

Dean cleared his throat. “I don’t care what he’s wearing, I just want to know why Malfoy called us here.”

“Me?” Malfoy’s head tilted. “I didn’t call you here.”

All eyes turned to Harry and it was a bit unnerving.

“Erm, I didn’t call you here either.”

“But then—” Ron frowned as he summoned a piece of parchment from his robes. “I got a note this morning at work. Left as soon as I was done with a patient.”

“Why would either of us send a note?” Harry asked.

“I was wondering that myself,” Dean scratched his chin.

“I never really know what’s going on,” Seamus shrugged.

When Neville said nothing, Harry turned towards him expectantly. His lips were worried between his teeth and his eyes were on the ground.

“Neville?”

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to hound me,” Neville threw his hands up. “It was me.”

Malfoy mouthed ‘hound’ before he shook his head.

“I’m nervous, okay. The plan goes into motion tomorrow and we don’t even know all the details.”

“You know enough.”

Neville glared at Malfoy. “We know what you’ve told us.”

“And that’s enough.”

“Harry, what hasn’t he told us?” Ron asked, suspicion in his tone and on his face.

“Fuck if I know. He’s told me what you know.”

“But you’re dating!” Seamus accused with a finger pointed at him. “Shouldn’t he tell you everything?”

“It’s Malfoy!”

“Fair point.”

“Can we just talk about it again?” Neville asked, hands grabbing at the ends of his hair. “I’ll feel better about it all.”

Malfoy slumped in his chair and gestured for everyone to sit down. “Finnigan, what’s your role?”

“Entertainment.”

When he didn’t expand on that, Dean leaned over Neville poke him. “And? What will you be doing?”

Seamus took a long swig from his flask before burping. “No idea. I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

“Um,” Neville lifted a finger. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Ron asked, eyes narrowed on Malfoy when he shrugged.

“It doesn’t really matter what he does as long as it’s distracting.”

“Distracting,” Seamus mumbled, hand coming up to stroke his chin. “I can work with that.”

“Thomas, what’s your role?”

“I’m to accompany the painting and release Bandit onto the unsuspecting victims.”

“Do we have to use victims?” Neville frowned. “That makes it sound bad.”

“We  _are_ stealing from them.”

“Yeah, but still.”

“Weasley, what’s your role?”

“I’m to harass the bigots about their choices and try to convert them to the Equality Movement.”

“Longbottom, you?”

Neville puffed out his chest. “I am to bring along Witch’s Ganglion and Peppermint plants for aesthetics.”

“And you do have them, right?”

There was something in his voice that had Harry’s eyes snapping up. There was still something niggling in the back of his mind about the plants that he couldn’t quite place. It was familiar in a way, and the longer he couldn’t figure it out, the more frustrated he became.

“I only have five Witch’s Ganglion in stasis charms. I tried to find more but with no time to explore, I had to go with retail sellers and their storage conditions were not up to par.”

“That’s fine,” Malfoy waved that away before he leaned forward, tongue swiping against his lips. “But the Peppermint plants? What of those?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I have a dozen of those.”

“I want them all.”

Neville’s forehead wrinkled and his lips turned downward. I only need one Peppermint plant per Witch’s Ganglion.”

“No. I want them all.” His tone had a hard edge to it and there was something in Malfoy’s eyes that Harry didn’t like.

“I—well okay,” Neville said, hands raised in surrender and tone placating.

“What’s your role?” Ron asked Harry.

“Erm…”

“Harry is to stick with me. He’s needed for the reveal.”

“The reveal of what?” Seamus asked, lips pursed over the rim of the flask. “You aren’t getting married are you?”

“Hell no,” Harry said instinctively before Malfoy kicked him in the shin, hard.

Ron’s brows were raised, and Harry knew that the suspicion had never left.

“We aren’t fond of marriage,” Malfoy said, eyes glaring at Harry. “What with each time he’s tried, I figure let’s not jinx it.”

“That’s low,” Harry said. What was with Malfoy? They had gotten along just fine last night, what with cocks in arses and all. 

“Oh Merlin, it’s awkward now,” Dean whispered.

“My apologies,” Malfoy said, fake smile in place that was far creepier than any smirk had been.

“I don’t think you mean it.”

Malfoy looked down at his nails, the silence spoke for itself.

“This is your fault, Neville!” Seamus whispered, voice carrying in the stifling silence.

“ _My_ fault? How is it my fault?”

“You’re the one who brought us here, the consequences are on you.”

“Maybe we should leave, is that rude?”

“We can hear you,” Malfoy drawled. “And perhaps you should.”

Harry looked away from the group as they shuffled towards the fireplace to stare at Malfoy. He was annoyed, angry, a little hurt but mainly confused. Something had shifted, only he didn’t know what.

“Don’t eat anything big for dinner tonight, wouldn’t want you to feel it come back up tomorrow,” Malfoy said in parting. 

“Yeah, I feel even worse,” Neville grumbled.

It wasn’t until Ron said goodbye and they were all gone did he speak up.

“I didn’t deserve that. And you don’t know those stories or what I felt when they fell flat.”

“I know.” Malfoy’s fingers fidgeted against the table. “It wasn’t personal, or really even about you. I needed a distraction.”

Harry arched a brow and kept it arched until a lasting silence drew Malfoy’s attention.

“They were asking things I couldn’t answer, Potter. I needed a distraction and a lover’s spat provided just the right amount of un-comfortableness to give me that.”

“So fuck my feelings as long as you got what you wanted.”

“It might have seemed like that.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “That’s exactly what it was.”

Malfoy’s head tilted back as he looked up at the ceiling. “Tell me something, when you protested to the idea of a potential union, was it the idea of marriage or just me.”

“What does that matter?”

“You preach feelings but didn’t care for mine.”

Harry walked around the table to stop in front of Malfoy.

“Is this your way of telling me I hurt your feelings?”

When Malfoy didn’t say anything, Harry pulled the chair out enough for him to be able to sit on his lap.

“You know,” Harry began, foreheads pressed together. “An eye for an eye will leave us both blind.”

Malfoy’s brows merged and his forehead wrinkled. “No, wouldn’t we still have—”

“Shh,” Harry placed a finger on his lips. “Don’t ruin my wisdom.”

He could feel a smile pressed against his lips and that was what he wanted to see.

“I’m sorry,” Malfoy whispered. “I’m not used to caring about anyone, not since—well, you know.”

Caring. Harry’s stomach jolted. “You care about me?”

“Enough to apologize.”

Harry rubbed their noses together and relished the breathy laugh he got in return.

“How romantic of you,” Harry murmured. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

“Don’t be.” Malfoy looked away. “I’m not marriage material,” he whispered, and Harry closed his eyes.

“Nott is an arse who’s opinions are worthless. Don’t let the ghost of his rancid thoughts affect your own.”

“And whose should I? Yours?”

“No,” Harry pressed a kiss to the tip of Malfoy’s nose and grinned when he got a glare. “Only your thoughts matter.”

“What if I want to know yours?”

“In the same way I want to know what you think when you look at me?” Harry asked and the jolt in his stomach returned.

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll tell you.”

“Whenever I want?”

Harry nodded and watched the way a light dusting of pink marred Malfoy’s cheeks. “It can be a trade.”

“Oh?” Malfoy arched a brow.

“You tell me what you first thought as you creepily stared at me in my sleep—”

“I did not!”

“And I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

The flush on Malfoy’s cheeks grew darker and Harry was way too curious to back down.

“Your mouth was open, and you looked like an idiot.”

“Hey!” Harry slapped Malfoy’s shoulders. “I don’t sleep like that.”

“How would you know?” Malfoy teased. “I was the one to witness it.”

“So you  _were_  staring.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Harry and— _oh_ —that was nice.

“I thought you looked peaceful,” Malfoy whispered. “I’ve never seen you peaceful, I liked it.”

Oh.

“Maybe you should stick around, and you might see me peaceful more often.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“Yes, no, maybe—” Harry huffed, exasperation filling him. “I’m not sure. The adventure is figuring it out.”

“Adventure,” Malfoy smiled, albeit sadly. “Never really had one of those.”

“I’m good with adventures,” Harry offered. His heart was hammering, and he felt weird for offering twice but it was the best he could do.

“Adventures come with downsides.”

“Everything does.”

“Adventures are dangerous.”

“So is life.”

“Adventures are—”

Harry shushed him again, finger rubbing against Malfoy’s bottom lip. “If you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. I want what you want.”

“Even if it’s the opposite?”

His stomach sunk and the rejection hurt but he meant what he said. “Even then.”

Malfoy’s lips pursed; the pressure was felt against his finger.

“Can we talk about it again? You might change your mind after the party.”

“Why?” Harry narrowed his eyes. “What is it you have planned?”

“Heartbreak.”

It was foreboding and he didn’t know what to say. Was it Nott’s heart that would break? Or was it Harry’s?

“Alright,” Harry conceded. “The adventure is on hold, but I don’t think I’ll change my mind.”

“Everyone does.”

The self-deprecation was something Malfoy  _needed_ to work on.  

“A trade is a trade. What is it you want to know?”

Malfoy’s arms tightened as he sucked in his bottom lip. “I want to know if you have time for a repeat of last night.”

Harry folded his arms. “That sounds like a deflection.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“What is it you really want to know?”

Malfoy shook his head and Harry gave up. No point in trying to get him to budge. Malfoy was as stubborn as he was annoying.

“Another time.”

“Those are stacking up.”

“I can handle it,” Malfoy promised, fingers rubbing circles on Harry’s back.

“What else can you handle?” Harry asked, and he revelled in the way Malfoy smirked. Finding that damned smirk attractive was something he’d never forgive himself for.

“Take me to bed and you’ll find out.”

Harry stood up, hand extended only for him to pull back when Malfoy was going to take it. “As long as I find out the rest too. I care what you think.”

They locked eyes and he wished he could tell what Malfoy was thinking. Everything was so complicated, but between them, it always had been. Would it ever get easier or would continued contact just muddy the waters further?

Malfoy took his hand before a hushed, “Alright,” could be heard.

That would have to do, it was all Harry had to go on. He’d just have to trust Malfoy. Trust him with the plan, trust him with the confusion, trust him with his weird feelings, just  _trust him_.

And wasn’t that just the damnedest thing?

————

“I’m so nervous,” Neville bemoaned. “I could puke.”

“If you do, make sure it’s in the party,” Malfoy said as he ran his fingers through his now wavy hair that reached his chin. Harry had already run his own fingers through it, unable to stop himself.

“Of all the days for Seamus to be late,” Dean swore as he checked the time. They were all standing at the entrance of the party, two closed double doors with a poorly written sign that read,  _‘You weren’t invited’._

“I’m not bothered,” Malfoy said, an amused quirk to his lips when Harry touched his hair again. “You like it?”

“Too much.”

“Ick,” Ron covered his stomach with his hands and his face twisted in disgust. “Flirt somewhere else.”

Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and winked over his shoulder at Ron. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Yeah,” Harry teased. “What if I like it?”

“It’s my fault,” Ron whispered, horror in his voice. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Oi! Sorry, I’m late, I couldn’t find the right equipment.”

Harry turned around and immediately wish he hadn’t.

“Seamus, what are you wearing?”

“What do you mean? It’s my uniform.”

Seamus was in his Tornadoes uniform, broom in one hand and a Quaffle in the other while a Snitch and a Bludger chased each other around his head.

“I’m going to put on a show,” Seamus said, eyes excited. “Haven’t been able to get on a broom in ages with being reserve and all.”

“Wait,” Neville held up a hand. “You plan on  _flying_ in there?”

“Why not?”

“Seamus, where is the room? You’re going to hurt someone.”

“Yeah, Dean is right,” Ron added. “Or even hurt yours—”

“No, it’s fine.” Malfoy’s lips twitched. “This wasn’t what I had in mind, but it’ll do. Good job, Finnigan.”

Seamus puffed out his chest and scrunched his nose as he stuck his tongue out at the rest of them.

“See? Malfoy approves.”

“If that’s your selling point, it needs work.”

“Want to elaborate on that, Weasley?”

Ron looked around, as if hoping someone would stick up for him. Neville and Dean pretended to be in an animated discussion and Seamus held up his hand as a barrier between him and Ron.

“Let’s just go in, shall we?”

Malfoy harrumphed, but gestured them forward with his hand. “Finnigan, you first, followed by Longbottom. Thomas and Weasley, you go in together next. Harry and I will take the rear.”

“Oh sure,” Neville began, tone shrill. “Just throw us to the wolves.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Don’t worry guys, we got this,” Seamus threw his fist into the air in some kind of solidarity before he withdrew his wand and shot a bombarda at the door. Screams could be heard as the door pitched forward and collapsed on the ground.

“You’re entertainment has arrived!” Seamus yelled as dust from the door breaking apart kicked into the air around him and Neville hesitantly went after him.

“I don’t even have words,” Dean said, head shaking as he grabbed Ron and they too entered.

“Well, that was certainly an entrance,” Malfoy mused, amusement colouring his tone. “I’m not sure our appearance will be as dramatic.”

When Malfoy took a step forward, Harry grabbed his hand to hold him back.

“Whatever happens in there, I just want to thank you.”

Malfoy’s eyes softened as he held a hand up to Harry’s cheeks. “Don’t thank me just yet.”

The warning was a bit unnerving and he still wasn’t sure the whole thing wouldn’t blow up in his face, but there was no going back now.

Harry entwined their fingers as they stepped up to the destroyed entrance. He took a deep breath before walking into the room, hand warm in Malfoy’s grasp and nerves lacking as long as he was with him.

Their appearance did  _not_ go unnoticed. The gasps, as amusing as they were, were nothing in comparison to Nott’s face when his head lifted and his eyes locked onto Harry’s, Malfoy’s and then their clasped hands.

Oh, this would be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! All mistakes are mine, Gigi the loml was not available when I had done this, but as always she deserves all the love. 
> 
> This was more of a transition chapter. I had posted it to Tumblr a bit ago. I had waited to post it here because I wanted to give you all more than a small update. In a few hours, I'll add a new chapter. If you follow my Tumblr, you'll no doubt have seen the first half of the next update but I now have the whole party scene done. So I'll see you in a few hours!
> 
> I do hope you like this. I'll always love writing the banter between everyone, that and the flirting. Let me know any thoughts and I hope you are all excited for the engagement party!
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	8. An Eye for an Eye

Chaos.

Chaos ensued immediately as Ron loudly said, “Well, is this a party or what? Quit staring.”

Guests began to whisper; one person’s eyes were moving rapidly between everyone and Harry worried they would pass out. There were a few guests that were clearly uncomfortable by the way they were shifting from one foot to the other. Someone gasped loudly and far too dramatically to not be on purpose. It wasn’t until he looked closer that he realized it Parkinson, who winked at him when he caught her eyes.

As he looked around the room looking for Astoria who was weirdly absent, he could see Neville’s plants—the sheer amount of them stuck out and he wondered again, what was the point? There was only one table and it drew his attention; it had a handful of chairs available and that was it. That was calculated, only a select few would be able to sit while everyone else was to remain standing. Classic Nott, assert superiority and watch on with pity.

“What’s going on?” Nott demanded as he stood up, knocking over an ostentatious goblet, voice booming in the now silence of the room.

“None of you were invited.”

“I don’t need an invite,” Malfoy drawled, tone bored and eyes cold, far colder than Harry had seen. “Neither does Longbottom or Weasley. I know it’s hard to keep up but do try, won’t you?”

Nott’s fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, and Harry knew it was a tactic to remain calm, the habit was the only stress reliever that worked for him.

“If you must stay where you are unwanted then you are held responsible,” Nott said through gritted teeth. “The rest, however, do not belong here.”

“I do,” Harry said and watched Nott’s eyes flash with  _something_. “You see, Draco is not only my date, but my boyfriend.”

Malfoy’s hand squeezed around his and he wasn’t sure if it was because he used his first name or the situation itself.

_“What?”_ Nott whispered as he slumped into the chair, and for the first time, Harry could see that he was rattled. “How?  _Why?_ ”  

“It’s amazing how much we have in common, isn’t it?” Malfoy mocked, a harsh laugh reverberating around the room. “Like our shared experiences on how much of a colossal bag of shit you were to us.”

The whispers broke out again and Parkinson pulled out a Quick-Quotes Quill and started taking notes. Part of him wanted to hex it out of her hands, but this was the quickest way for the news to hit the papers and he  _really_ wanted to see the headlines.

“Why? Why did you come here?”

Malfoy extended his free hand and gestured around the room. “To celebrate.”

“Your friends aren’t welcome,” Nott sneered, eyes on Dean, and Harry unsheathed his wand.

“Okay,” Dean shrugged, “But the painting behind you is coming with me then.”

“Excuse you?” Nott angled his head towards the painting—it was massive, taking up most of the back wall—frown in place and eyes narrowed. “This is on loan from a reputable museum—not that you would know anything about that—you can’t take it.”

“I’m the artist,” Dean snarled. “It’s only because of  _me_ that the museum let it go for the night. I am to accompany it wherever it goes. Seems you are the one that wouldn’t know anything about being reputable.”

“And I’m the entertainment!” Seamus yelled when Nott’s face darkened. “Booked by you, yourself.”

Nott’s eyes closed briefly before he held up a hand. “Pardon? I did  _not_ book you. I booked the Weird Sisters.”

Seamus mounted his broom as he placed a finger on his chin. “I assure you; I was booked. Feel free to check for yourself.”

Before Nott could say anything, Seamus took off, Quidditch equipment following behind him.

“Who wants to be the seeker to my chaser?” Seamus asked, head down and not watching where he was going at all. Several people screamed when he weaved in-between them before he held tight to the broom and zooming underneath the table. Panic caused those closest to move too suddenly and many chairs tipped over, one lady grabbing hold of the tablecloth—pulling everything on top with her before the sound of shattering glass was nearly drowned out by Seamus’ whoop of laughter.

“Any takers?” He asked, a wide grin on his face and eyes lit up with excitement. “Can’t promise much, but we’d have fun, that’s for sure.” His brows waggled before he pulled out his flask and downed it in one go.

“What kind of fun?” Parkinson asked, eyes on Seamus and quill resting at her sides. She looked curious and Harry wanted to say something but when her lips quirked, he knew it was a lost cause.

“You want to find out?” Seamus lowered till he was flying right above her, snitch and bludger still chasing each other around his head.

_That_ sounded like a bad idea but when it came to Seamus, bad ideas were the only ones he liked.

“Zabini!” Nott yelled, voice far too loud. “What have you done?”

The crowd dispersed, split down the middle and it reminded Harry of a story the Dursley’s told during the two-week time period where they tried—and failed—to be religious.  

Zabini’s hand stilled, champagne glass near his face as his now widened eyes looked around the room.

“Pardon?” He straightened up and pulled at his already pristine robes. “Why am I to blame? I’ve done nothing.”

“I can see that,” Nott snarled. “It’s  _your_ bloody party company.”

“Ah,” Zabini nodded. “Right, forgot about that.”

When people began to grumble suspiciously, Zabini continued, one hand raised complacently. “Mother’s last husband—may he rest in peace—left behind  _Vintage by Design_. She gave it to me. Can’t say I’ve given it much thought.”

“You better,” Nott threatened, voice a hoarse whisper. “It’s the only reason you are standing here.”

Harry was so used to purebloods sticking together that he was confused. When Zabini’s free hand clenched tightly he realized it was because he wasn’t part of the Sacred 28. Elitism stacked on elitism.

“I have the itinerary, do shut up.”

“Excuse you—”

Zabini pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment that had seen better days. “It would appear that the choice in entertainment was changed recently. It _does_  say Finnigan was booked.”

_“By whom?”_ There was a red flush to Nott’s face and Harry knew it was due to anger.

Zabini lifted up the parchment higher, eyes squinting as he tried to read it. “Just says…” he trailed off before his shoulders tensed and his eyes closed briefly. When they opened, he locked eyes with Malfoy.

“Nothing,” he whispered, voice carrying. “It says nothing. Must have been overlooked.”

Harry moved to whisper in Malfoy’s ear as Nott started threatening to sue. “Did you know he’d cover for you?”

Malfoy shook his head. “It was a fifty-fifty toss-up.”

“And if it hadn’t worked?”

Malfoy turned his head till his lips brushed against Harry’s ear. “I always have a backup plan, Potter.”

He shivered when a warm puff of air tickled his earlobe. He tilted his head and let Malfoy’s lips move down his neck.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry said louder than intended. There was something weirdly attractive about how resourceful Malfoy was.

The familiar feeling of a smile pressed into his skin _would’ve_  had him smiling too if it wasn’t for Nott slamming his hand on the table, startling several people, including them.

“I want you two out,” Nott pointed at Harry and Malfoy. “And take your low life friends with you.”

“Hey,” Seamus threw the bludger at Nott who barely ducked in time. “I might be a lowlife, but Dean isn’t.”

Dean snorted as Ron and Neville let out outraged noises and began to argue.

_“What’s going on?”_

The crowd turned as one to see Astoria walk in, hands on her hips and lips curled downward. “This place is a mess.”

Malfoy didn’t look at her, he chose to watch Nott instead, so Harry did too. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Nott’s eyes grew softer, the anger lessening the further she entered the room. It was a weird effect, as if she was calming him with just her presence. Clearly, Nott was far fonder of her than he’d been with either of them.

When he looked back at Malfoy, there was a smirk that bordered on malicious and it made him want to step back.

“Astoria,” Nott extended a hand, gesturing her forward. “Your absence worried me.”

She looked around the room warily before settling on the wrecked table and destroyed dishes. “Something came up, I had to attend to it.”

What could have been more important than her own engagement party? When she bypassed Nott’s hand, Harry felt like he was missing something.

Movement drew his attention and he watched Dean slide Bandit out from his robes and place him on the ground. The Niffler immediately blended into the floor and he lost sight of him.  

“However,” she continued, tone hesitant and distaste marring her features. “I didn’t think this was what our party would look like.” Her nose wrinkled the more she looked around the room.

When her eyes rested on Malfoy, she smiled softly, and her eyes closed as the smile grew and her cheeks lifted.

_“Draco.”_

“Astoria.”

Nott looked between them, eyes cold and narrowed.

“It’s so nice to see you.” Astoria left the table to approach Malfoy. “I had hoped you wouldn’t attend though.”

“I know,” Malfoy said with a huff of laughter. “It was unavoidable.”

Astoria noticed their clasped hands before she realized just who they belonged to.  _“Oh,”_  she mumbled, eyes briefly flickering towards Harry’s scar.

“Is this why…” she trailed off; voice barely audible as she looked to Malfoy who shook his head.

“You know why.”

She looked to the ground, her smile turning sombre. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

“Astoria?” Nott asked, and for the first time since they arrived, the anger in his voice was replaced with an uncertainty that was uncommon.

Astoria cleared her throat and a flash of a smile lit her face as she turned enough to see Nott. The smile was beautiful; it stretched her lips and her teeth flashed and it seemed to calm Nott, but it was fake. Utterly and irrevocably fake.

“I didn’t realize you two were close.” His smile was forced, the attempt at remaining cordial was laughable.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Malfoy drawled, fingers tapping the back of Harry’s hand rapidly. He felt a swoosh of energy signifying familiar magic.

The closest plant near Nott vanished and he knew it was Malfoy’s doing. He wasn’t good when it came to Herbology, but he could tell it had been one of the peppermint plants.  

Nott’s face showed anger and his mouth parted to speak, but his brows furrowed, and a hand moved to rub his temple as whatever he had been going to say didn’t happen. He always did have recurring headaches, so to Harry, it wasn’t uncommon.

_Headache._  Harry groaned, he couldn’t help it.  _That’s_  what the look Malfoy gave him had meant when the plan was explained. Neville said the Witch’s Ganglion would give people a headache without the peppermint plants. His brows furrowed the longer he thought about it. What would the plant do to someone who already had headaches? Why have the peppermint plants around if they negated the effects?

Nott raised his wand to his temple and Harry knew it was a relaxant to ease the headache. A spell he’d seen him perform countless times.

When his wand lowered, Malfoy’s hand tightened around Harry’s and the look on his face screamed triumph. Only, he wasn’t sure what they had won.

Another set of fingers tapping against the back of his hand and the peppermint plant was returned. Nott’s shoulders slumped in relief and Harry could only assume the headache had dispersed.

“Oh?” Nott asked as he straightened up and sneered at Malfoy. “Like what? Pray tell what I don’t know.”

“Draco, don’t,” Astoria whispered but it was too quiet, and her voice carried. Malfoy didn’t spare her a glance, his eyes were solely on Nott.

“Like the fact that Astoria wanted to marry me but settled for you.”

_“Oh shit,”_  Parkinson gasped, the sound of her quill scratching on the parchment before all hell broke loose.

_“Excuse me?”_

Nott’s voice was barely heard over the sound of dozens of people talking at once. It was deafening and Harry felt as if they were the centre of attention even more than they were before.

_“I always thought there was something weird about the engagement.”_

_“To think she would have been a Malfoy!”_

_“Personally, I would have chosen Nott.”_

_“Really? I’m the opposite.”_

_“Neither options are any good.”_

_“Shh!”_

“Let’s go somewhere private and talk,” Astoria hedged, hands wringing and eyes wary. “This doesn’t have to become a public spectacle.”

“Too late for that,” Parkinson snorted, quill scratching quicker against the parchment.

“No,” Nott gestured towards her and then Malfoy. “I want to know what he means. When I signed the marital contract, there was nothing about prior engagements.”

“That’s because we were never engaged,” Astoria said, voice coming out in a rush. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to—”

“Oh, don’t lie to him,” Malfoy interrupted, his free hand resting on his hip. “We both know the end of that sentence wouldn’t have gone over well.”

“Draco.” Astoria’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes narrowed harshly.

Malfoy ignored her as he looked at Nott. There was something bittersweet about the gaze and Harry wondered if he’d see the situation the same. Nott was an arse, knob, prat, prick and every other insult but he _had_ been a part of his life. He always thought seeing Nott happy would be hard, but he just felt nothing. The anger of the engagement had mostly dissipated, and he honestly just wanted his ring and then to go home.

“Do you remember what you told me when I last mentioned marriage?” Malfoy asked.

Nott looked away but said nothing. The silence was a cop-out.

“Because I do.” Malfoy chuckled but it was dry and humourless.

“It was right after you told me you’d found someone else. I asked about our future, we had once talked about marriage, talked about a forever. I didn’t understand what had happened or where it went wrong and then…”

The energy around them picked up and Harry was a little worried. Part of him wondered if summoning a shield would help. He was loath to help Nott, but Malfoy’s magic was a bit wild when emotional.  

“You told me that you wouldn’t settle for someone you couldn’t use.”

_What?_

Nott’s eyes closed when a few people in the crowd made outraged noises. Parkinson booed.

Screw the shield, Nott could take whatever Malfoy threw at him.

Malfoy took a deep breath as his hand tightened around Harry’s. “Back then I thought you were just trying to hurt me. Say whatever you knew would work. But then I discovered a pattern.”

Parkinson leaned forward, quill in the air poised and ready.

“ _I_ was the one who brought up marriage. After that, our relationship went to shit, and you left.”

A numb feeling began to take root and Harry’s stomach dropped. _No_.

“And then with Potter, the papers said _he_ proposed. The articles were filled with glowing praises, your happy faces and stories of how _ideal_ the relationship was. At least for a little while, right?” Malfoy mocked.

“Suddenly the papers were reporting on your _amicable_ split. It was weird to me,” Malfoy shook his head. “Potter proposes and not even a fortnight later you were gone.”

Harry’s hands shook and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more. He had always known Nott was despicable but had the whole relationship been a deception? Had it ever meant anything to him?

“Your parting words were still true,” Malfoy whispered. “Marriage to either of us was never in your plans. You used us until it wasn’t beneficial.” 

The urge to leave grew stronger and Harry wasn’t sure he could stay. Had Malfoy always known? Had he kept quiet on purpose? Why wouldn’t he have _said_ something?

“I used to pray you’d find your match,” Malfoy continued, a cruel tilt of his lips. “That one day someone would do the same to you. That you would know how it felt to be thrown away like that.”

“You’re wrong,” Nott said. “You’re seeing things where there is none.”

“But then,” Malfoy continued, pointedly ignoring him completely. “Astoria came along. I never dreamed that she would get me what I wanted.”

When Nott looked at her, she shook her head rapidly and her hands were raised in defence. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’m not a part of this.”

“Not intentionally, at least,” Malfoy mused, a small quirk of his lips.

“Astoria came to me a few weeks before you two started dating. She wanted to enter a marital contract. One of status, wealth and a merging of our assets. All business and no pleasure.”

“Not all business,” Astoria mumbled, and Malfoy’s anger cracked—briefly—as his lips twitched.

“It’s the same contract you currently have,” Malfoy shrugged. “One my parents had as well. But I never wanted that. I didn’t want to hope to love my partner, I didn’t want to one day tolerate them, I didn’t want business. I wanted love.”

Astoria looked down and Harry got the impression that she might have already been half-way there to loving Malfoy.

“As much as I like you, Astoria, I didn’t love you and I didn’t think that would change.”

“I know.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“But then,” Any hint of a smile vanished as he looked back to Nott, who was looking between them with wariness. “She got with you. I had assumed you had said yes where I had said no. Maybe you decided to stop using people, maybe you figured a contract would get you what you wanted.”

When Malfoy smirked, the maliciousness was back, and it still made Harry anxious. “At least I did, until I realized that _you_ proposed.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry whispered. What did it matter who proposed if it was a contact?

“Most people who enter contracts don’t throw an engagement party,” Malfoy explained, thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “They skip the engagement process entirely and only hold the bonding ceremony.”

“So we did things a little bit differently,” Nott stood up straighter and looked at Astoria, who wouldn’t meet his eyes either. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“You fell in love,” Malfoy said, a touch of awe in his voice. “The moment I found out you had proposed, I _knew_. I didn’t think it was possible. You use everyone you can, suck the life out them, leave behind insecurities that take _years_ to get over and yet, you succumbed to the one thing you never truly gave us. Love.”

“What does it matter?” Nott scoffed. “Is it jealousy? I’m in love with my fiancé, oo shocking, truly ground-breaking.”

When Astoria finally looked up, her eyes were on Malfoy and they were pleading.

_“Draco,”_ she begged, voice barely above a whisper and the emotion in it was palpable. But what was she pleading for?

“You fell in love with someone who couldn’t love you back.”

 Nott’s hands fell limply to his side as he turned to Astoria, devastation and confusion already taking root.

“What? What’s he talking about?”

Astoria’s head tilted back as she blinked up at the ceiling.

“What was it you told me, Astoria? That I wasn’t just your first choice, I was your _only_ choice,” Malfoy placed a hand on his chin. “Something about how you detested any other eligible options. How your parents would disown you if the Greengrass surname fell out of the sacred 28. That you didn’t want love, that you wanted a merge and that was it.”

“Astoria,” Nott whispered. His eyes had tears in them and that surprised Harry. He had never seen Nott cry, not during their fights, not when they broke up—never.

“When I jokingly said Nott was available, what was it you said?”

“Draco, why are you doing this?” She asked instead.

“What was it you said,” Malfoy repeated. “Go on, tell us.”

She shook her head, hands clenched and eyes back on the ceiling.

“What. Was. It. You. Said?” Malfoy said, jaw clenched and eyes hard, each word purposefully accentuated.

Her shoulders slumped and he could see the fight seep out of her.

“That I’d have to be desperate,” Astoria whispered before she covered her mouth and her shoulders shook.

Nott took in a shaky breath as he took a step toward her. “Tell me he’s lying.”

Astoria closed her eyes tightly.

“Tell me you love me.”

Her shoulders shook harder and Harry knew she was crying.

_“Tell me!”_

When her hand fell away, and her teary eyes locked with Nott, Astoria shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” her breath came in gasps. “But I don’t love you. I never did.”

Nott took a step forward, hand held out before it fell limply once more. “But I thought—”

“I thought you knew,” she wiped her eyes. “It’s all in the contract. I thought you understood what you were getting into.”

“What do you mean? I told you I loved you!”

“I never said it back!”

Nott licked his lips nervously as his eyes looked around the room. “I thought you’d grow to love me as I love you. I thought you showed your love in different ways. I thought—”

“I could never love you.” Her voice was quiet, hoarse and it carried. The statement preceded a crack of an apparation—she was gone.

Nott staggered back and he clutched his chest. His breaths were coming in ragged and his knees buckled.

“Whoa!” Someone in the crowd yelled. “He’s in shock. Do we have a healer in the room?”

“Stand back,” Ron shoved people aside. “That means you too pointy,” he said as he elbowed an older man to the side.

Ron pulled out his wand as he knelt on the ground, one hand rested on the back of Nott’s back.

“It hurts,” gasped Nott.

“Where?” Ron waved his wand several more times when Nott pointed at his chest.

“I’m not showing any spikes in pain levels. Your heart is racing and your eyes—” Ron moved his hand to open Nott’s eyes wider. “Have you taken any medicinal spells?”

Nott’s eyes began to tear up and Harry could see the streak it left on his cheeks.

“Just for my headache.”

“What kind of spell was it? Pain reliever? Relaxant? I can try some absorbent spells if that’s the case, but that’s all I can do unless we get you to St. Mungo’s for further testing.”

“It’s an experimental relaxant,” Nott said, hand clenching the front of his robes as more tears fell. “I was told it was a combination of relaxants, pain reliever and a mood stabilizer. It’s the only thing that helps.”

“You moron,” Ron shook his head. “Experimental spells are risky enough, but you should never try medicinal ones.”

Muffled grumblings were all Harry could hear as Ron continued to cast spells before his head snapped up.

“Wait, did you say mood stabilizer?”

Nott tried to speak but he couldn’t, breath coming too fast and his eyes were blinking through the tears.

Ron’s eyes narrowed before he looked at Malfoy. “You knew.”

“Of course I did.”

“What’s going on?” Harry looked between Malfoy, Ron and then Nott.

Malfoy let go of his hand to walk forward, a silencing charm cast over the four of them with a wave of his hand. Nott’s eyes widened the closer Malfoy came towards him. 

“You were so insistent on the damn plants,” Ron snarled, a hand raised as a buffer between Malfoy and Nott.

“The peppermint plants?” Harry asked as he followed Malfoy. He was so confused.

“Peppermint is unstable when combined with certain spells or potions, including mood stabilizers,” Ron said. “It warps the medicine, amplifies emotions instead.”

Nott glared at Malfoy as he tried to sit up.

“With the amount of peppermint in this room, Nott is experiencing _at least_ ten times what he should be.”

“And what is he experiencing?”

“Heartbreak,” Malfoy whispered, a small smile on his face. “I wanted you to _feel_ it. I wanted you to know the crushing pain of what you cause. If she was going to break your heart, I wanted it to _break_ unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Pain tenfold is the _least_ you deserve.”

Nott’s eyes closed tightly as a sob left him. “Hurts.”

“It’s not a nice feeling, is it?” Malfoy drawled. “Feels like your body can’t contain it, feels like part of you has gone, a piece that you’ll never get back. You use people, throw them away like they are nothing and it’s about time you know how that feels.”

“It didn’t have to be like this,” Ron argued as another sob left Nott. “This is _cruel_.”

“And what he’s done isn’t?” Malfoy crossed his arms. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

Harry had always wondered if Nott would ever know the pain he had gone through when their relationship ended, wondered if Nott would ever realize just how much it had hurt him. But as he watched the way Nott clutched his chest, snot dripped from his nose and never-ending tears fell down his cheeks, he knew that this wasn’t it. This was never what he wanted.

“I know the pain you went through,” Harry said as he turned towards Malfoy. “I went through it too. Maybe not the same degree or circumstances but I _do_ understand.”

Malfoy parted his lips, but Harry held up a hand.

“But not like this,” he shook his head. “This is too much for me. Look at him, he can’t even breathe right!”

“Oh, _now_ it’s too much?” Malfoy snarled. “It wasn’t too much when you came to _me_ begging for this. You _wanted_ to come here, you started it!”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Harry threw his hands in the air. “I didn’t know that you’d go this far.”

“Don’t play dumb, Potter, it’s not a good look,” Malfoy argued. “You knew exactly the kind of person I am; you knew I wouldn’t do things morally, and yet you came to _me_. You wanted him to hurt and you know it.”

Did he though? Harry bit his lip as he looked down at Nott. Part of him, a small part, had hoped Nott would see them and regret how he had treated them. But physical pain? Emotional pain to this degree? Never.

“I’m not that kind of person, Malfoy. I thought you knew that!”

“Revenge changes people,” Malfoy said, eyes cold and it was familiar in the way that it tore at his heart. “You can’t want revenge and still be moral, Potter. You’re my accomplice whether you like it or not.”

“I just wanted my ring back,” Harry whispered, his hands pulling at his hair. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Nott’s brows furrowed and Harry wondered what he had been thinking when giving the ring to Astoria. Had he even thought about him? Ever once stop to think that perhaps using the same ring was wrong? Tacky even?

Something brushed against his leg but before he could pull out his wand, he could see movement on Malfoy’s shoulder, and knew it was Bandit. A quick glance around the room and he could see people arguing with each other, fingers pointed at others and guests frantically checking their robes. It would seem they had already noticed they had been robbed.

“Here,” Malfoy held out his hand and against his better judgment, Harry held out his too.

The press of cold metal on his palm had him holding on tightly, and his fingers shook. His ring.

Harry opened his hand and he hated that his eyes stung. He had loved Nott. Truly loved him. It had taken him months to get the design right. Ginny taught him how to make it himself, spent so many hours in her shop. It had been a labour of love, one that went to someone who had never loved him.

It hurt then, and it still hurt now, however dim the dull ache was.

But no matter how much pain he had gone through, he couldn’t look at Nott hurting and call it justification. It went against every fibre of his being.

“I have to get him to St. Mungo’s,” Ron said as he sent out a Patronus. “Emotional trauma or intense heartbreak can lead to heart failure. With the number of peppermint plants here, I can’t take any chances.”

Ron stood up when a team of people apparated into the room. They all wore uniforms that matched St. Mungo’s. Harry had heard of emergency apparations, but never witnessed any.

“I’ve stabilized him the best I can,” Ron explained to the only one wearing the blue uniform of a Healer.  “But he needs to be monitored immediately. Mood stabilizers were applied in the vicinity of peppermint plants.”

The healer grimaced before she gestured her team forward and started issuing commands.

“They’ll take care of you,” Ron promised Nott right before two arms grabbed hold of him and they apparated out.

Ron sheathed his wand as he stood up before he jabbed Malfoy in the chest, hard.

“You are lucky Nott applied the spell himself or I would have you brought up on charges. If he dies, that’s on _you_.”

Malfoy jerked away from Ron’s hands.

“If you ever do something like that around me again, I’ll take you to the Aurors myself.”

Malfoy scoffed as he moved away from another hard jab.

“My wife is the head of the MLE, so don’t think I’m taking the piss.”

Ron lowered the silencing charm right as the crack of several apparations echoed around the room.

“Quiet!” A familiar voice shouted; voice amplified by magic. “We have gotten reports of an unusual amount of thefts and no one is to leave until questioned by my Aurors.”

“You called your wife!” Malfoy hissed as he took a step back towards Neville, Dean and Seamus who had moved up.

Ron blinked a few times before he shook his head. “Not this time. I only sent the Patronus to St. Mungo’s. She’s going to kill me if she finds out.”

Hermione walked around the room, eyes tracking several guests before they fell on their group. Her shoulders slumped before she rubbed her temples and moved forward.

“Why is it always you guys?” 

Harry held up his hands. “I don’t think that’s a fair assessment. Last time it was Seamus’ fault. He—”

“Harry, shut up.”

“I’ll have you know that it _wasn’t_ my fault last time,” Seamus argued. “How was I supposed to know the guy was an undercover Auror?”

“Seamus,” Hermione hissed, and Seamus moved behind Parkinson who looked between everyone with interest, almost gleefully.

“I’ve worked 60 hours this week and I’m going to have to pull a double to investigate whatever the hell happened here,” she gestured towards the wreckage around the room.

“What are you guys even doing here?”

As one, they all looked towards Malfoy who took a step back.

“Malfoy?” Hermione pulled out a small notebook and started to take notes.

“I asked Harry to be my date here. His friends came along, that’s all.”

The notebook fell out of her hands.

_“Date?”_ She eyed Harry suspiciously. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I told Ron!”

“Oi!” Ron kicked him in the shin. When Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I was going to tell you but—wait, why is it my fault Harry didn’t tell you?”

Hermione pulled Ron aside as two Aurors began to talk to his friends. Harry was left with Malfoy and it was uncomfortable.

He looked up at Malfoy and was torn. There was something there, something between them. Something he _had_ wanted to explore. But now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair before he looked up. “Look, I—”

“Would you do that to me?”

“What?” Malfoy’s brows arched.

“If we continued as we had been, would you have done this to me if it ended badly? Like Nott?”

“No.”

“How do I know that?”

“You aren’t him, Harry. You don’t hurt people just because you can.”

Harry’s head jerked. “But you do.”

Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it though? You used to, and you hurt him easily.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Malfoy said, hands at his sides. “I wrestled with it, wondering if I could pull it off, and then whether I should. As much as I have moved on from Nott, the bitter hurt didn’t disappear. I hated him more than my reformed morals wanted to let it go.

“Revenge was always a what if, a thought when I couldn’t sleep, and my mind wandered. A fantasy in the shower when I couldn’t focus. It was just a half-formed idea that I never thought would happen. But then you came along and suddenly it stopped being a what-if.”

“Was it worth it? The revenge?”

“I don’t know,” Malfoy whispered. “I haven’t had much time to process it.”

“I have and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” Harry stepped away when Malfoy moved to comfort him. “I don’t like hurting people and I played a part in tonight. Part of this is on me.”

“I never factored you in when I thought about revenge,” Malfoy murmured. “You almost changed my mind, almost had me throwing it away for your naive plan.”

“Almost isn’t enough.”

“What would you have done if I had told you what I had planned?” Malfoy asked, there was a dull quality to his drawl and Harry hated it. Hated that he wanted the smirks, the little smiles, the sparkling eyes.

“I would have stopped you.” Of that, he was sure.

“I knew that too,” Malfoy said. “I wanted to keep you at arm’s length, I wanted to make it emotionless but then—” his eyes closed, and Harry wished he’d shut up.

“The less I told you, the less it would fall on you.”

“Is that your twisted way of saying you were protecting me?”

Malfoy shrugged with one shoulder. “It was my loophole. I got to keep going, and you wouldn’t be held accountable.”

“You always get what you want in the end, don’t you?”

“I’m selfish like that.” Malfoy took a deep breath. _“I don’t bring good headlines, I don’t bring good conversations, I don’t bring good energy and I surely don’t bring good company.”_

“Don’t,” Harry blinked rapidly, trying to keep his eyes from stinging. “Don’t repeat his words like this.”

“They’re true, I tried to warn you. I’m not good, Potter. You’ve always known that.”

There was, Harry _knew_ there was good in him, he’d seen it. But he wasn’t stupid enough to disregard everything else, not after tonight.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” whispered Malfoy and his eyes were glassy. “But I think they should stick with me.”

Harry knew what Malfoy was asking. He wanted Harry to extend the olive branch, to invite him in but he wasn’t sure he could. His heart and his mind were telling him two different things. His heart wanted Malfoy, it had for a while, but his head was so _confused_.

He had been silent for too long and Malfoy looked at the ceiling as a huff of air left him.

“I want the best for you,” Malfoy said, voice cracking. “You deserve that much, deserve someone who matches what you offer. I get that it’s not me, and that’s okay.”

“Malfoy.”

“I’ll see you around, Harry.” His eyes were closed but Harry could see that his eyelashes were wet.

“Draco, wait.”

Silver eyes looked at him, tears pooling in the corners and Harry couldn’t help but raise his hand to wipe them away.

“What are you thinking as you look at me right now?”

Draco’s eyes closed and he felt more wetness on his fingers.

Nothing was said and the only answer he got was a shake of Draco’s head before he was gone. Apparated away, leaving only tears on Harry’s fingertips and an emptiness that he wasn’t sure could be filled.

“Harry?”

He turned to see his friends and couldn’t hide what he was feeling if he tried.

“It was never real, was it?” Ron asked as Neville gaped.

Harry shook his head as he lost the battle of his stinging eyes.

“You fell for him anyway.”

It wasn’t a question, but Harry nodded as Ron pulled him into a hug and he clung to his robes tightly. More arms wrapped around him and he welcomed the company, welcomed the group hug.  

Harry was used to heartbreak, felt it many times over but he had never experienced it when the person had never been his to begin with. But as he stood there in his friend’s arms, surrounded by frustrated guests and confused Aurors, Harry wondered if it was deserved.

An eye for an eye, only this time it was heartbreak. They got Nott, but at the cost of their own hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little nervous about today's chapter. The first half was easy, it was something I had been gearing up for, for a long time. But the second half is where the nerves kicked in. I've reread it several times and each time I got more nervous. I guess I had doubts that the buildup would match the crescendo. I really do hope you all enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> I know there will be mixed reviews on Draco's choices. Some might say that Nott deserved it, some might be torn in the middle and others might full-heartedly disagree with it entirely. And that's okay. We don't have to see eye to eye. What I, you or someone else might do does not define the character. Regarding Harry, he went into it feet first, head empty and a flare for revenge. But expectations don't always meet reality and his reaction to Draco is just as messy and raw as I think someone in that position /could/ feel. When it comes to Harry, a characterization I have a hard time leaving out, is his morals. His drive to save others, the ability to see people hurt and want to help them. I think part of him thinks Nott deserved it, but I also think he'd feel torn even thinking that. People are complex and I think writing them should equally match that. 
> 
> Me, personally, I think Nott had it coming shsks. Maybe that says more about me than I realize. Oh well. 
> 
> This is not the last chapter, so don't worry. I have more coming, no way I could end it like this. Let me know what you thought, and I'll be anxiously waiting for any input 😬 Until next time. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	9. The What-ifs of You

Pain, it lingers and thoughts of a time when it’s absence prevailed occupied Harry’s mind. He had spent weeks telling himself that with each passing day, he was closer to forgetting, closer to moving on. Heartbreak wasn’t forever, he’d get back to a time when there was no Malfoy occupying his mind, back to a time when all he had was school memories and war thoughts that were best left in the past. He was just another statistic for the millions of people who were scorned by potential love. That’s all it was, his mind knew this, understood that it would just take some time, and he too would move on.

But what use was it when his heart wasn’t listening?

While Malfoy had once spent time with what-ifs over revenge, Harry’s time was spent wondering the what-ifs of his own choices. What if he had stayed? What if he had extended the olive branch? What if they could have talked it out? What if he had sacrificed a smidgen of his own morals to keep whatever they had been headed for?

What if?

What was the bloody point of a what-if, if all it did was leave him wanting more?

Harry sat on the floor, head tipped back to look at the ceiling as he tried to forget about the what-ifs, even if just for a moment. His memories taunted him, whispered the remembrances of when he had done the same with Malfoy. The ceiling may be blank, boring and empty now, but he remembered when it had been bewitched for him to see something beautiful. Just as he had been bewitched to see Malfoy in the same light.

The sound of his floo went off but he ignored it, just as he had every other time a visitor arrived.

“Go away.”

“When Ron said it was bad, I didn’t think you’d be on the floor.”

Harry tried his best to glare but that would require looking away from the ceiling and he wasn’t in the mood to humour anyone.

“I’m surprised he sent you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seamus’ voice was higher pitched at the end and the outrage might have been humorous another time.

“You’re not usually the one sent in for delicate situations.”

“And is that this?” Seamus asked, sitting on the floor next to him. “Are you delicate?”

Delicate. Some would consider it an insult and perhaps in this context it was, but he’d never been allowed to be delicate before. In another setting, perhaps he’d explore that.

“I don’t know,” he whispered truthfully. “I feel like I’m being dramatic, that it’s stupid to be hung up on someone who was never mine.”

“Hey,” Seamus knocked his shoulder against Harry’s. “What you’re feeling is valid, don’t talk yourself out of the limited comfort you have.”

Harry rested his head on a bent knee and looked at Seamus for the first time.

“Why so serious?” It wasn’t like him and it was unnerving.

Seamus fiddled with his fingers, a habit Harry hadn’t seen since school.

“I know what you’re going through.” It was whispered so quietly, something that didn’t fit in with who Seamus was. Quiet was out of place when all he was used to was sound.

“That, and I’m also clean.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t smoked in a few days. Maybe later, but not today.”

“No,” Harry smacked him in the arm. “Not that.”

“I’ve been in a similar situation.” Seamus rubbed the back of his neck before taking a deep breath.

“I never told anyone, mainly because I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want to put energy into something that was obviously never going to happen.”

“You fell for someone you couldn’t have?”

There was no response, no sign that he even heard Harry.

“Sometimes, how people perceive us is out of our control. You found a best mate in Ron and we both know that went both ways.”

“You were in love with Ron?”

It was Harry’s turn to get smacked.

“No, you tosser.” His lips were quirked and for a brief moment, it was like Harry got his happy friend back. Only, the smile left and was replaced with a bit lip and sad eyes.

“I fell in love with my best friend.”

Whoa. Harry lifted his head and his brows arched. There had _never_ been any inkling of that. Dean and Seamus were a duo, just like Ron and him. Best mates, bros. 

“But uh, isn’t Dean—”

“Straight?” The laugh Seamus let out was sad, and it tugged at his already bruised heart. “Yeah, he is.”

The fiddling increased while Seamus’ voice decreased, and Harry had to lean in to hear him.

“I knew that, I’ve always known that. We were friends. I never had a friend like him before and I knew he felt the same. That’s what we were _supposed_ to be, just friends. But then things changed, or at least I did. My feelings changed while his remained the same.”

“You never told him?”

“Merlin no,” Seamus blinked rapidly before he scooted closer to Harry. “What good what it have done? He would have rejected me—kindly—but still let me down. He would  have emphasized that he’s straight, emphasized our friendship and then things could have gotten weird.”

“Could have.”

“I know,” Seamus shrugged before he picked up one of Harry’s hands and fiddled with his fingers instead. “I can’t ever say for certain what would have happened. If Dean had been bisexual, then maybe it would have just been me that he didn’t want. That at least would have been closure. I can’t control his feelings or his sexuality, nor would I want to. Despite that, despite the arguments in my head, I couldn’t stop my heart from jumping headfirst into heartbreak.”

It was getting too close to home for Harry. He’d rather talk about Seamus’ issues than think about his own.

“How did you get over it?”

“I don’t think I ever did, not completely.”

“Well, that’s… discouraging.”

A wet laugh was his response and it had Harry pulling him into a hug.

“I loved him,” Seamus’ fingers dug into his robes. “I didn’t fall for some things; I fell for _everything_. From the way he joked, to how he’d care and even when he was angry, because it _always_ stemmed from worry. Dean is a remarkable person and sometimes I wonder if it was inevitable that I’d fall for him. But if that were true, then I was destined to watch him from afar.”

“That’s a shitty lot in life.”

“It’s the only one I have,” Seamus mumbled, voice muffled as he laid his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Every time he fell in love, I was the one he went to, eyes bright and a smile that shattered me. Watching him fall in love was as beautiful as I imagined, only it wasn’t me on the other end.”

A quiet sob had Harry holding on tighter.

“I never had him, Harry. So why did it hurt so bad?”

“Because we’re humans run by emotions that go too deep to understand.”

“Get rid of them,” Seamus sniffled. “They’re useless.”

“Did it ever get easier?” Harry wondered as he patted the back of Seamus’ head. “Loving him from afar?”

A shrug was uncomfortable with their positions but that didn’t stop Seamus from doing it, repeatedly.

“It went from a gaping pain to a dull ache, but the ache never went away. I’m not like other people, those who would have just moved on. How could I when everything I loved about him never left? Everything that I fell in love with is still a part of who he is.”

“Would it have been easier to leave? Save yourself from the pain.”

“No,” Seamus lifted his head enough that Harry could see glassy eyes. “I couldn’t lose him, not over that. Having him in my life was more important than my feelings, and that’s still true today. I don’t think I’d have made it through a lot of my life without him.”

Harry wasn’t so sure that was true. Sure, it would have been harder, and things would have been different, but Seamus wasn’t someone to roll over and give in. He would have made it.

“Being around him now, is it easy?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Seamus nodded. “Sometimes when he mentions a date, my stomach clenches but then it eases because I still have him, just not in the way I wanted. But that’s okay, I’ve accepted that, no matter how much it hurts.”

That’s where any similarities ended. Harry wasn’t friends with Draco and there was no silver lining. There wasn’t something to fall back on if romance wasn’t an option. Seamus still got Dean, however differently than intended, but what did Harry have?

A bruised heart and swollen eyes.

“Finding partners that actually want you is a plus too.”

“Oh?” Harry leaned away till he could see Seamus’ face. There was a pink hue to his cheeks and that wasn’t something that happened too often.

“Don’t tell me it’s Parkinson. Neville said you two stayed in contact after the party, but I didn’t think anything came of it.”

“She’s not what she projects.”

He wasn’t sure about that either, but if falling for Malfoy had taught him anything, it was that there was more to people than what is always shown.

“Pansy understands me,” Seamus whispered. “She’s been through the same thing.”

The look in his eyes had Harry frowning.

“You don’t mean—” Had Parkinson fallen in love with Draco at some point? Was that what Seamus was getting at? Or perhaps Zabini?

“I chose Dean over my feelings, but Pansy put herself first, and I admire that in a way. I can’t begrudge her for that, not when there were times I had wished I had done the same.”

“You think you’ll get your happy ending?” Harry teased and couldn’t stop a grin when a Seamus smiled shyly.

“Too soon to tell, but I like the odds.”

“I’m happy for you, you deserve a happy ending.”

“So do you.”

Harry looked away and tried not to get upset, but it was hard.

“We’re not like you, Seamus. The situations are similar but _so_ different.”

“Yeah, because you still have a chance while I never did.”

He hated that his heart lurched at the words. When would his heart and his mind agree on something?

“I don’t think we do.”

“Why?” Seamus sat up, legs crossed, and arms folded. “Because of what he did? Nott fucking deserved it.”

Harry blinked rapidly at the censure in his voice. It would seem today was filled with a lot of firsts.

“I know you don’t think so,” Seamus held up a hand when Harry opened his mouth. “That’s fine, we don’t have to agree. But tell me, if it had been me or Ron or anyone else you know that did it, would you have walked away so easily?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Harry argued, and the irony of repeating Draco’s words was not lost on him. “It hurt the both of us.”

“Would you have?” Seamus repeated, ignoring him. “Humor me, Harry.”

“No,” he answered.

“Is it because it’s Malfoy that did it, or is it the act itself?”

It was too much, too much to think about. Why couldn’t he just wallow and be miserable like everyone else in the world?

“I don’t know.” The line was blurred, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“If your morals rely on who’s doing it, then was it ever a moral to begin with?”

Harry threw his hands in the air. “There’s a big difference between Draco and the rest of us.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I’m not in love with you guys!”

The admission startled Harry, unlike Seamus who smiled. Falling for Draco was a lot different than loving him. Could he love him? Even now? Thinking about it brought new rounds of arguments that his mind never ceased to let go.

“You hold him at a higher standard because you love him?”

“Can you not say that word.”

Seamus snorted. “You said it first.”

“You tricked me.”

“Would you have admitted it otherwise?”

“Yes—no, maybe. I don’t know! Why am I being interrogated?”

“I just want you to really think about it. Was it so unforgivable that it’s worth walking away from? He didn’t do it to you.”

“But he could.”

Seamus’ forehead wrinkled as he leaned forward. “Is that what’s bothering you? You think you’ll be next in his line of cruelty?”

“It _was_ cruel,” Harry agreed. “Cruelty came so easy to him and that worries me. It crossed a line in my own morality, whether it’s a hypocritical one or not.”

“Can you forgive what was never your outrage to begin with? He did it to Nott, that’s who would have the biggest say in this mess—not that any of us give a fuck what he thinks,” Seamus shrugged.

Harry was confused, and the longer Seamus talked, the more he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

“I know this goes against what you’ve been shown, but people aren’t just good and bad.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Seamus asked. “Most of the time you see people in shades of _you_.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Harry, you’re _good,_ inherently good. You view situations in what _you_ would do but not everyone can be on the same moral level as you. If you expect Malfoy or anyone else to treat others as you do, you’re always going to be let down.”

He leaned back on his hands as he listened to Seamus. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that people were complex and not easily definable as good or bad, but he never stopped to think he was holding people to the standard he gives himself, one that maybe they couldn’t match.

“Malfoy’s not a good person.”

Before he could interrupt, Seamus continued on with a pointed glance in his direction.

“I’m sure he can be, just as I know that he’s not bad either, but I know he can be. If people fell on a scale as you like to see it as, I think he’d be somewhere in the middle; some days teetering back and forth.”

“I’m not comfortable with what he did,” Harry said, eyes on his hands. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

“But you expected something,” Seamus pointed out. “And I think that’s part of the problem. You knew he was planning _something_ and went along with it, blindly. I think your guilt is louder than your outrage.”

“I didn’t want to hurt Nott, at least not like that.”

“Unintentional or not, you _were_ a part of the scheme. You chose Malfoy and while you can’t control him, some of his actions come back on you and I think that’s the root of a lot of this.”

“I don’t think I like wise Seamus,” Harry complained as he laid down and looked at the ceiling. “I want the Seamus who agrees with my ideas.”

“I agree with you when you’re right.”

“You think I’m wrong?”

Seamus laid down too and Harry was grateful for him, grateful that his friends cared so deeply.

“I think you don’t know what to think. You’re confused, hurt, guilty and it’s easier to step away than to analyze it.”

“I do feel guilty,” he admitted. It was uncomfortable, both in the aspect of what he failed to do and in admitting it all together.

Seamus rolled onto his side, elbow propped up and hand resting on his hand. “Good, that’s a starting point. Decide what you want to do about that and let the rest happen on its own.”

“It’s a bit daunting.”

“Love always is.”

Love. Harry sighed, both at the notion and the idea of tackling it. Love had never worked out for him, it always ended in breakups, sadness and missed opportunities. Malfoy seemed to be all of them at once and he wasn’t sure that could be changed.

But… he wanted to try.  

 

* * *

 

 

Apologies are hard, but apologizing to those you hate? Even harder.

Harry took a deep breath before he barged in, no knocking, no words, zero pleasantries.

“Whoa—” Nott pulled out his wand as soon as he saw him. “What the fuck do you want? Come to put me in a coma, have you?”

“Put that away,” Ron said, eyes on a folder as he walked into the room. “Your magic won’t work in here anyway; your wand is suppressed until you leave St. Mungo’s perimeters.”

“Get him out of here,” Nott growled, wand still uselessly pointed at Harry.

“I’d love to but he’s a signed in visitor to your room for the next 10 minutes.”

“I’m here for a follow-up, what do I need visitors for?”

Ron continued to read from the folder, occasionally making non-committal noises as he leafed through the papers.

“Your vital signs are good; the medicine we gave you seems to be working as it should. There were no long-lasting repercussions, and I’ve got a potion script for your headaches so you won’t have to be careless and use experimental spells.  Now, have you been experiencing any side-effects?”

“Uh,” Nott shifted under the onslaught of information before he shook his head.

“Great,” Ron grinned, smile polite but fake. “My work is done then. I’d like to see you back here in 3 weeks and we can have a final check-up.”

A wary glance at Harry had him rolling his eyes. Honestly, what did Nott think he’d do? They were in a bloody hospital for crying out loud.

“If that’s all, then I’m free to go?” He asked, already moving out of his chair.

“You can in—” Ron checked his watch, tongue poking out. “About 7 minutes.”

“What?”

“You can leave when I’m done talking,” Harry said, arms folded across his chest.

“Fuck this.” Nott stood up to go but Ron’s voice stilled him.

“Either you stay and listen to him or I’ll have you coming to see me every other day for the next month. Since I oh so very much care about your wellbeing.”

“That’s blackmail.”

Ron tilted his head. “I call it going above and beyond for my patients.”

“You’re not even my healer.”

“Ah,” Ron handed him a piece of parchment. “That’s where you are wrong. Your healer has handed me over the case due to a prior engagement.”

“How convenient,” Nott sneered.

“7 minutes out of your life talking to me won’t kill you,” Harry said, already annoyed. 

“No, but you almost did.”

Before Harry could argue, Ron clapped once.

“Which is why I’m here. I’m the silent mediator.”

“Silent means you’d shut up.”

Ron arched his brows as he began writing in the folder. “I could make it every day if you keep it up.”

Nott didn’t say anything, but he did pull a face like the mature individual he was.

“I’ve come to apologize,”  Harry said, and Merlin did that sting. Nott sat up straighter as he _finally_ gave Harry his undivided attention.

“I didn’t know what Draco had planned, if I had I would have stopped him.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think,” Harry clenched his jaw. The more Nott talked, the more he wished he hadn’t shown up. “I’m telling you how it was.”

Nott examined his fingers and the action reminded him so much of Draco that it hurt. “If you didn’t know what he had planned, why were you there at all?”

“To get my ring back. The ring that _I_ made, the ring that _I_ spent weeks on, the ring that _I_ proposed to you with. You had no right to give it to Astoria.”

“You gave it to me, that makes it mine to do whatever I want with.”

The very limited sympathy he had for Nott quickly evaporated. What he ever saw in him was a mystery, one for the Unspeakables to solve, because _clearly_ something had been amiss.

 “I’m not here to argue with you. Merlin knows we did enough of that during our relationship to last lifetimes. Save it for someone who cares.”

“You obviously do,” Nott lifted both his hands. “You came to me.”

“Yeah, to apologize for my part in what happened. I could have handled it differently, or even stopped Draco. That’s _all_ I’m apologizing for.”

“Figures,” snorted Nott. “I almost died and you’re giving me nothing but empty and useless apologies.”

“What do you want from me? To apologize on Draco’s behalf. We both know he doesn’t regret a damn thing. If you’re waiting on an apology from him, do hold your breath, it’ll make my day.”

“Charming as ever. I see you’ve stooped below your status.”

Status. That’s all he ever was to Nott, a bloody status. Someone who wasn’t allowed to show emotions, someone who couldn’t be like everyone else, couldn’t have flaws.

“I see you’ve never changed,” Harry whispered as he turned to leave. “You know, back then when you left, I blamed myself, but I thank God every day that I never married you.”

“For what it’s worth,” Nott called after him. “I did love you.”

“I’d rather you hadn’t,” said Harry, hand on the doorknob. “To use the ones you love is despicable. But that’s always been you, so I’m not surprised.”

He shut the door on whatever Nott was yelling after him. He didn’t care to stick around. Part of him regretted coming at all but the rest of him knew it had to be done. His conscious wouldn’t have allowed him not to.

If his conscience could apologize to a colossal twat like Nott, then his heart could get what it wanted; Draco.

Always Draco.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I actually had this update finished last night but it was so late that I figured I'd just wait. I wanted to say that there is still one more update left. I thought I'd finish it with one but it didn't work out that way. 
> 
> I have had a lot of fun writing Seamus, I love how quirky he is, how carefree and just funny that I was able to explore in this story but I also loved writing him in this chapter. His seriousness was needed for Harry. I considered Ron but sometimes when the person the closest to you gives advice, it can sound like what you want to hear and that can make people doubt the sincerity. Not that Ron would, but I think he needed to hear this from someone else. Add in the fact that Seamus could relate in ways Ron couldn't. 
> 
> I hope the conversation with Seamus and Harry helped show that it's not all about Draco's actions that were the problem. That a lot of his issues stems from his own behaviour that he had a problem with. It's a mixture and he just didn't grasp that at the time. I still stand by my last note, I think Nott deserved it lmao. But I can see why Harry had a problem with it. 
> 
> As for the apology. I think apologizing to someone like Nott would be so fucking hard. But I think that's part of why he did it. Wants have never really been a deciding factor for Harry. All the stuff that happened to him was never a want but he adapted and did it anyway. Notice he wasn't apologizing for everything, not even the plan itself, just how the end played out. Which kind of shows his dichotomy in a way. Still that inherently good because he doesn't want to hurt people but at the same time he went into the plan for a reason. 
> 
> Anyway, I've rambled enough shks. I do hope you liked this chapter! I'm going to get to responding to comments here shortly. I really appreciate all your insight, it's been a blast and I can't believe there will only be one more update after this. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	10. Thine Enemy Really is Sweet

Harry pushed his way through sweaty bodies and disgruntled jerks ignoring the outraged cries behind him. The  _Bare Sorcery_  was far too crowded, way more people than last time.

“Move it,” he elbowed someone in the ribs when they purposefully stood in his way. “I’m not here to take your prime ogling spot, you weirdo.”

He was already feeling tired by the time he made it to the bar, and he wanted to go home, but he wasn’t there for himself, he was there for Draco. Thestral was once again staring at him, amusement in his eyes.

“Been awhile,” Thestral said as he poured several drinks at once, eyes never leaving him. “I assumed you’d come around more often, what with you being Glitter’s boy toy and all.”

A sharp pang of pain hit Harry’s chest and he tried to smile but he was sure it came off as a grimace.

“Is he here? Is Draco here?”

“Hasn’t really been around much.” Thestral slid one of the drinks down the counter and through one of the dancer’s legs before it bounced off the back of a customer’s hand, who grunted and downed it in one go.

“When he is around, he only handles the back end, even promoted me to a management position.”

“Oh,” Harry’s heart sunk. Was Draco okay? He loved to dance. “Congrats.”

“I don’t really think I’m cut out for management.” Thestral’s lips pursed before he picked up a drink and drank half of it.

“Hey! That’s my order!”

“Does it look like I care?” Thestral stared at the man as he finished off the rest of the drink, one brow quirked and an eerie smile on his face.

“I’d like to speak to the manager,” the man placed his hands on his hips and glared.

“Jokes on you, I am a manager.”

With a slight sneer, Thestral refilled the glass and slid it towards the guy with very little care.

“On second thought,” he grinned at Harry, fangs poking through and eyes brighter than they were before. “I love being in management.”

Thestral sure was something else. In different circumstances, he might have laughed or played along, but his mind was elsewhere.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

“Oi!” Someone waved their hand in the air in an attempt to gain Thestral’s attention.

“When he was in earlier, he was tallying the money for this month’s fundraiser—”

Harry inhaled sharply, mind going back to when Draco freely offered his help. Surely, considering what had happened between them, something else had been chosen for a fundraiser.

“Usually he sends it through a secure owl, but he wanted to give it to them in person.”

“Did—” His throat closed, and he had to try again. “Did he say who it was for?”

_“Are you going to take my order or not?”_

Harry wanted to strangle the guy, and by the look on Thestral’s face, it would see he did too.

“No.” The tone was a drawl that booked no argument and Harry was kind of surprised the guy shut up.

“Some kind of school or something,” Thestral shrugged, eyes on the customer who was glaring at him. “I wasn’t paying that much attention because I didn’t care.”

Harry’s mind raced and he knew,  _knew_ that Draco was waiting for him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Thestral began with a sneer directed at the customer. “I’ve got to get back to work before they riot.”

“How inconvenient for you.”

Thestral winked at him before he was gone.

With a fluttering stomach and a nervous twitch in his hands, Harry pushed his way back out of the club, Thestral’s censure filled tone demanding to know what the customer wanted following him out.

 

* * *

 

 Harry apparated outside of his wards, annoyed that he had disabled his floo after his talk with Seamus. He loved his friends, but he could only handle one heart to heart a month.

The air was chilly, snow on the ground and all around him as it slowly fell. The crunching sound his boots made as he walked towards his house was loud, but not as loud as his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking.

Had Draco thought of him? Was he okay? Was Bandit fine? Would Draco reach out to him or was it his delusional heart talking?

The warmth of his wards drew his attention. It was always soothing, the feeling seeped into his magic and he knew he was safe.

Harry looked up when something familiar but also foreign touched his magic. His breath caught at the sight of Draco hesitantly standing at his doorstep.

“I tried to floo,” Draco wouldn’t look at him and Harry’s already cracked heart wasn’t sure he could take that. He  _needed_ to see more.

“But it wasn’t working. I couldn’t tell if it was under repair or…” Draco’s shoulders tensed. “Or if you blocked my fireplace.”

When he glanced up there was so much emotion in his eyes and Harry wondered if the fissures in his heart that had been left when Draco left, worsened.

“I disabled it,” Harry took a step forward. He wanted to hold Draco, wanted to see the tension leave him but it wasn’t the time. “Tired of wallowing in company, silence is a lot less embarrassing.”

One of Draco’s hands began to fiddle with his robes. “Wallowing?”

“You can’t possibly think I was okay after you.”

Draco’s eyes closed and he could see him shaking.

“We can do this inside,” Harry offered, hand gesturing towards his door. “Get out of the cold.”

“Sorry, I—” Draco shook his head, not finishing whatever he had been about to say.

A shaky outstretched hand held a letter. “I just came to give you this.”

When Harry didn’t say anything, Draco ran his hands through his hair with shaking fingers.

“I know it’s not much.” The tone was small, far smaller than he ever wanted to hear Draco speak with. “Usually we get more but it’s been a little slow lately, and—and—”

Draco’s breathing was coming in quicker and it  _hurt_ to see.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey,” Harry whispered, and he closed the distance between them. Draco flinched back until he was pressed against the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, especially after everything.”

“Regardless of my feelings, you deserve the proper funding Potter.”

“Harry.”

Draco shook his head, eyes closed tightly. “Please don’t.”

“Call me by my name.”

_“I can’t.”_  It was gasped out, nearly breathless. “If you’re Harry then I want you to be my Harry and that’s not possible. You have to be someone else. You have to be Potter.”

_My Harry._

The words repeated over and over in his mind.

“What if I don’t want that?” Harry whispered. “What if I don’t want to be Potter to you?”

“No,” Draco moved away, skirting around Harry as he made his way across the lawn.

“I apologized to Nott.”

Draco froze, and the small victory vanished when he turned around, frown in place.

“What?”

“I didn’t want to,” Harry hedged, boot digging into the snow. “It sucked, he was an arse through and through, but it needed to be done.”

“For who?”

“Me.” He wanted to step closer, but Draco was so flighty. “ Your plan wasn’t what I wanted; it wasn’t what I anticipated but I wasn’t innocent. I was a part of the problem, I went to you, and that can’t be ignored.”  

“So you apologized… to  _Nott_.”

“It wasn’t for him. I don’t care what he thinks, but I do care what _I_  think. I don’t want to be what led me to seek you out. I don’t want to be that person, it’s not who I am.”

“It’s who I am though.”

It was Harry’s turn to say, “What?”

“You talk about what you did as if it was horrible, unforgivable and something horrendous. That may not be you, but it  _is_  me. I planned it; I did this. If it’s so bad that you had to distance yourself from it, then what’s that say for me?”

“It’s not the same.”

A scoff preceded a wet laugh. “How can you hate it for you but expect me not to see it the same way?”

Harry inched forward, testing the shaky theoretical line they had.

“I thought the same at first,” Harry admitted and hated the way Draco let out a deep breath as he looked at the sky. “But then I talked to someone wise who helped me see it differently.”

“You don’t know anyone wise.”

“Seamus talked to me.”

“Oh, that’s… concerning.”

Harry chuckled, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“He said I’ve been judging you on what I would have done. But you aren’t me and I can’t expect you to be.”

“I don’t regret it,” Draco said. “Not for a moment.”

“I know.” Another step forward as silver eyes narrowed on his feet.

“I’d sooner kill Nott than apologize.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“What saying?” Draco sniffed and despite the thick cloak around him, Harry wanted to warm him up.    

Harry shook his head. It didn’t matter.

“I can’t condone what happened, but I do understand most of it,” he said, fingers pulling on a stray thread of his shirt. “I’m not okay with what happened, but I’m okay with  _you_.”

Draco shook his head, but he didn’t step away when Harry got closer.

“I’m no good for you.”

“Don’t speak for me. I get to decide that.”

“I’m not good for  _me_!” Draco’s shoulders slumped. “There is so much to me that I hate, that I wish I could change but I don’t know how and it’s all I’ve ever known. I always thought that Nott didn’t love me because even _I_ couldn’t love me.”

“That’s—”

“But then you came along,” Draco’s cheeks were wet, but Harry couldn’t tell if it was the snow or tears. “And you  _liked_ me,  _me_  of all people.”

He wanted to tell him to stop selling himself short, that thinking like that wasn’t healthy, but Draco kept going.

“I have no fucking clue what you saw in me and I don’t think I ever will. But you did it so easily, it made me want to like myself more. If you could see something in me, then maybe I could learn too.”

When the wetness spread, Harry closed the distance between them and pulled Draco into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered, and Harry held on tighter. “Not for the plan, but I  _am_  sorry you got hurt in the process. I didn’t want that.”

“You got hurt too.”

“Collateral damage.”

“You are worth  _so_ much more than that.”

Draco bit his lip as he looked up and Harry couldn’t stop himself from wiping his cheek.

_“Thank you.”_

It was said with an emphasis that went further than the conversation. He wasn’t sure how far the gratitude went or what it all was for, but he nodded anyway.

“Tell me what you’re thinking as you look at me right now,” Harry begged. He needed to know.

When it looked like he might refuse, Harry placed a hand over his lips. “You always said another time, later. If there was ever a later, it’s _now_.”

Draco moved his head until Harry’s hand was on his cheek. Harry was never good at restricting himself. So when the urge to rub his thumb along pink cheeks came along, he gave in immediately.

“What was it you wouldn’t tell me when we had sex?” When Draco’s cheeks reddened further, he knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“What was it you missed?”

“Being with someone I cared about. Sharing more than just intimacy. Sharing pieces of myself and not worrying about whether I’d get them back.”

“Did you?” Harry asked, worried about the answer. “Did you get them back?”

Draco grabbed hold of his wrist and Harry was worried it would get pushed away. Elegant fingers pushed until his hand was pressed harder, keeping it immobile.

“You tell me.” His eyes were just as emotional as when Harry walked up, but now they were pleading.  

“What was it you wanted to tell me the day before the party?” Harry murmured, thumb caressing slowly. “We made the trade, but you never got your side of it.”

“I wanted to be your adventure,” Draco whispered, voice so soft. “You said I should stick around, and I _wanted_  to. You said it would be an adventure if we did but I didn’t want to go on one, I wanted to _be_ your adventure.”

_“Draco,”_ Harry said, tone reverent in a way it never had been before. “You were already my adventure.”

The grip on Harry’s hand lessened as Draco pulled Harry’s hand away enough for him to press a kiss to his palm.

“And now?” Harry asked. “What do you see when you look at me?”

His lashes fluttered before Draco’s eyes closed. “I think I might love you and that  _scares_  me.”

“I feel the same and I think you already knew that.”

“You’re scared as well?”

“I’m giving you pieces of myself too.”

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and held on tightly, head resting on Harry’s shoulder, face resting against his neck.

“If you let me,” Draco began in a whisper, warm breathing making him shiver. “I’ll take care of them.”

“I know you will.” And he did, there were no doubts in his mind about that.

“Harry,” Draco tilted his head back. “What happened with Nott, I want you to know that I’d  _never_  do that to you. You have to know that.”

Harry moved away enough to cup Draco’s face with both hands. “I know, I’ve always known that.”

“I really like you,” Draco said, a shy smile in place.

“Just like?” Harry teased.

“I haven’t decided yet, I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

“Alright,” Harry’s hands rubbed circles on Draco’s back. “I’ll still be here when you do.”

“Kiss me,” Draco said, head tilted back and eyes on his lips.

“Wow, so this is what it’s like.”

He was met with a frown. “What are you on about?”

“You made me  _beg_ to be kissed and I think it’s karma that you’re—”

Draco grabbed hold of Harry’s shirt,  _hard_ and yanked him closer. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And he did, repeatedly. Warmth must have been a synonym with Draco’s name because all Harry felt standing in the snow was warm lips and a heated energy that he only ever felt around Draco.

“I’ll probably fuck up at some point,” Draco mumbled, lips pressed against Harry’s. “I make a lot of mistakes.”

The words were separated by more kisses and he had to concentrate to piece the sentence together.

“Don’t give up on me when I do.” His voice was choked, and Harry wanted to chase it away, so he did, with his mouth.

“I won’t,” Harry promised. “But in return, will you let me make mistakes? I’m not perfect and I can’t be. I need the room to grow and change if needed.”

A smile against his lips had him falling harder and he wasn’t sure his mind could think of anything but Draco. His name echoed in Harry’s mind and he didn’t want it to stop.

“It’s fucking cold,” Draco complained before a warming charm was placed around them. Harry didn’t notice a difference, because in Draco’s arms, he had already been warm. “I waited for you for thirty minutes.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, lips against Draco’s cheek. “I went to the  _Bare Sorcery_ to find you.”

“Oh.” There was a pleased glint to his eyes, and it was pretty, so pretty. “I left Thestral in charge.”

“About that,” Harry ran a finger along Draco’s nose. “Thestral said you haven’t been dancing.”

“You worried about me?” Draco teased, tilting back until Harry’s finger fell to his lips, where a soft kiss was pressed into his skin.

“Always.”

His eyes grew brighter and Harry never wanted to see it dim.

“I’ve been thinking about expanding. Muggle Strip Clubs can do well, and I figure why settle for one market when I can have two? I’ll train Thestral and have him run that.”

“You want to sick Thestral on a bunch of Muggles?”

“Absolutely.” There was a wicked glint to his eyes, a secret that Harry wasn’t privy too and he was tempted to ask but a gust of wind brought snow blowing onto them.

“I missed you,” Harry admitted. He had spent too many hours moping and far more wondering what it would be like to hold Draco again.

“I didn’t miss you at all.” His face was emotionless, but his eyes were twinkling, and Harry didn’t believe him for a second.

“Take down your wards and invite me in,” Draco ordered when Harry kissed the tip of his nose. “Tis the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Yeah, my wards are in place, but you  _are_ aware that you are already in them, right?”

“What?”

Harry grinned when Draco’s nose scrunched up in confusion. “My wards stretch down into the road. You wouldn’t have made it close to my door at all if you weren’t already in them.”

“Then…”

Draco’s face half crumpled and there was a bittersweet tinge to the way he cupped Harry’s cheeks.

“You keyed me into your wards? Even after…”

“That night, when I brought you here after the club, you told me to let you in. I realized that I had already let you into my heart. My magic recognized that, it included you in my wards ever since, not really sure how to undo it either.”

“Don’t,” Draco murmured, hands grabbing hold of Harry’s and dragging him towards the door. “Don’t undo it, and don’t let me go.”

Harry didn’t plan to. They had traded bits of their hearts, both pieces unsure and a little battered but willing to keep going. He’d hold onto the pieces  _and_  Draco with a fierceness that made up who he was and had always been. It was second nature to protect those close to him. And Draco?

Well, Draco was his enemy, his acquaintance, his friend, his lover, and his heart.

He’d never let go.

_Thine enemy really is sweet._

**—Fin—**

 

* * *

 

**Not Quite an Epilogue**

 

“Why are we celebrating your new club by going to someone else’s strip club?” Ron asked, eyes on the crowd of people instead of the dancing stripper in front of him who was attempting to get his attention.

“It’s always best to scope out the competition,” Draco drawled from his position on Harry’s lap.

“That’s pretty smart,” Neville said as he threw Muggle pounds at the dancers, way too much money but Harry wasn’t going to say anything.

“That’s me,” Draco said, and Harry wrapped his arms around him tighter.

“Yeah, what else are you?” Harry whispered, grinning when Draco whined. “Come on, you haven’t said today’s.”

“I was hoping you forgot,” Draco turned his head enough that Harry could see he had stuck his tongue out at him, and he was tempted to buck Draco off.

Harry waited patiently. Draco had been going to a mind healer and one of the things that had been suggested was for him to name 5 things that he liked about himself every day. Some days it was hard, and Draco was only able to list a few, but it was a start and Harry was proud of him.

“I like that I’m smart.”

Draco twisted until he was facing Harry directly, eyes on his chest.

“I like that I’m cunning.”

“Bordering on a synonym but I’ll allow it.” The small quirk of Draco’s lips was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for.

“I’m a good dancer.”

“The best.” A weak slap to his chest had Harry’s smile widening. Merlin, he loved him.

“Your biased opinions aren’t supposed to interrupt.” If Draco had been going for scolding, it missed the mark. His eyes were soft and the small smile on his face was serene.

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. “Please go on.”

“I like that I love you.”

“That doesn’t count,” Harry rubbed his nose against Draco’s. “But I love you too.” 

Draco’s hands rested on Harry’s chest, but his fingers were moving restlessly. “That’s all.”

It wasn’t 5 but Harry didn’t care. Draco was trying and that’s all that mattered.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?”

He didn’t get an answer, but he did get Draco resting his head on Harry’s shoulder, a smile pressed into his skin and a warmth that never left.

“What’s with this shit?” Ron yelled, voice barely heard over the new upbeat song playing. “Why invite us out if all you’re going to do is  _that_.”

“I think it’s cute,” Dean said, head in his hands as he watched a new dancer take the stage. “Shut up.”

“Excuse you—”

“Oi! You’re being too loud and it’s messing with my vision,” Seamus said as he pulled out his flask and tipped it towards Harry before taking a drink.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Seamus, how much did you smoke today?” Neville asked, tone dripping with disappointment.  

“How should I know?”

“Our friends are fucking morons,” Draco mumbled, and Harry almost didn’t hear it. “I can’t believe we even associate with them.”

Our friends.

They had shared so much between them. Stories, experiences, hardships and even heartbreak. It used to scare him how much of his life had been intertwined with Draco but with each reminder, it now brought a smile to his face.

He wanted to share with Draco, wanted to share everything, friends included.

But what he really wanted to share with Draco was his life.

**—Fin—** ****

 

* * *

 

 

Just kidding!

**A brief look into Volume II, coming to a nearby Ao3 soon**

 

“Harry,” Hermione began in a tone that never ended well for him. “ _Why_  are we in your pantry?”

“Yeah,” Seamus nodded as he unwrapped one of Harry’s muffins on a nearby shelf and ate it. “When your note said to come to the pantry, I thought you were taking the piss.”

“It’s not that bad,” he hedged. It had been magically expanded and there were even chairs!

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Ron was batting away a floating spice rack that Draco had insisted was necessary. “This bloody thing won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m losing prime working hours,” Ginny complained. “I have several orders to fill. What are we doing here?”

“I have nothing going on,” Dean pinched off a piece of Seamus’ muffin, who was offended and shifted out of his reach. “The best way to procrastinate.”

“I have to check on some plants, can we speed this up?” Neville asked.

“All of you shut up!” Harry paced back and forth in front of them. “We all know I’m good at coming up with plans.”

Hermione snorted harshly, so harshly that he hoped it hurt her.

When Seamus choked on the muffin laughing, and Dean had to hit him on the back, Harry realized he had made a mistake, a grave mistake in inviting them.

“You know I love you, Harry,” Ron said hesitantly, and Harry really didn’t want him to continue. “But your pants at planning  _anything.”_

“Thanks for the vote of confidence guys. Appreciate it.”

“Quit being dramatic,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming you need our help?”

“Despite how  _good_ I am at coming up with plans,” he glared at them all. “I realized that I work best in numbers. So, I have decided to follow Draco’s lead and plan a heist.”

“Oh no,” Neville slumped in his chair with a groan.

“This won’t end well.”

“I don’t want to,” Hermione eyed the door. “I can’t have plausible deniability if I help you in whatever concocted mess will happen.”

“I’m in,” Seamus gave him a thumbs up, well a muffin covered thumbs up anyway.

“When aren’t you?” Dean asked. “If it’s a bad plan, you’ll be the first to join.”

“I would take offence, but you’re right.”

“Who said it would be bad?” Harry demanded. “This is really hurting my pride.”

“Why isn’t Draco here?” Ron asked, suspicion all over his face. “He’s the one who can actually plan something.”

Two seconds. Harry was two seconds away from strangling all of them.

“Well,” Harry shifted nervously and refused to look at anyone. “The thing is, he can’t know about it.”

Ron scoffed. “You’re mental if you think he’ll not notice something when it comes to you.”

“Harry.” Ginny’s tone was as soft as her eyes and he  _knew_ she understood. “Why did you need me? You wouldn’t be needing a ring made, would you?”

Seamus choked on the muffin again, but Dean didn’t help him, his attention was on Harry, mouth parted and eyes wide.

Neville clapped but when no one else did he shrunk down in his chair with a frown. Hermione still looked like she wanted to leave.

“Fuck,” Ron swore. “Now we have to help you or we’ll look like pricks for saying no.”

“You’ll do it?” Harry asked, eyes pleading, and he hoped they could feel it.

“You’ll help me propose to Draco?”

  **—Fin, _for now_ —**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Gosh. I can't believe it's over. It's been such a wild ride. I didn't expect to love this story as much as I did. When I first got the inspiration, it was mainly out of curiosity. I'm not a fan of the trope so I thought it would be hard but it wasn't. I had a lot of fun writing this. I also had a lot of fun seeing you all react to it with me. It made the experience so much more enjoyable. You guys were my energy that kept me going. So thank you for that. 
> 
> I didn't want to call it an epilogue because it wasn't really one. I just wanted to show a small glimpse of them, to show the love we already knew existed, show some growth and show some friendship. As for the teaser for the next instalment, I'm not a big fan of proposing as an epilogue. It's cute but sometimes I feel like people put marriage as the happily ever after when and that's just not it. So my goal is to give you a story, give you love, give you a potential marriage, but also give you a happy ending that's not in correlation to a ceremony. Idk, we'll find out together just what happens. 
> 
> I really do hope your journey with my story has been a good one, because it was a good one for me. I genuinely loved writing this and I hope it shows. Thank you for sticking with me, it means a lot. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought. I'll see you next time. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


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